


The Dark Queen

by KateDu33



Series: The Dark Queen [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angels, Dark Fantasy, Demons, Evil, Fae & Fairies, Faeries - Freeform, Fantasy, Heaven, Heaven & Hell, Hell, Kings & Queens, Magic, Monsters, Queen - Freeform, Romance, Slow Romance, Strong Female Characters, Vampires, War, Werewolves, Worldbuilding, sorcery, ya fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 50
Words: 128,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29437266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateDu33/pseuds/KateDu33
Summary: Five kingdoms, two warring queens, bloodstained soil, and one powerful sorceress willing to risk everything she has to stop it. The demons crawl out of the pit in infinite waves, slaughtering the opposition by the thousands.Kessara Blackrose is a Commander, the highest ranking warrior in her kingdom, and said to be the most powerful sorceress in the world. She knows that there is only one way to stop the war: the Dark Queen has to die. She has only one mission, however, given to her by her queen: find help.  But if she doesn't succeed in her mission, she will be hanged at the Gallows, her title, her family, and her life stripped away.River Lockwood is a killer. He has been his queen's assassin since childhood, and was amazing at it. The people told legends of him in the poor villages; he became the creature that lives in the night, a shadow, if you will. But no matter how many missions he'd completed, the abuse never stopped. The pain never ceased. There is only one thing on River's mind: Freedom.Two people, two kingdoms, one goal. One tortured and desperate, the other ruthless and determined. Will they succeed in their mission, or will they die trying?
Series: The Dark Queen [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162298





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thank you so much for clicking on my story! This is the first draft of a novel I am writing as part of a potential series, so the writing may not be great. If you could drop a comment telling me what you think, that would be very much appreciated! Enjoy!

Commander Kessara Blackrose's knuckles stung, despite being expertly wrapped in thick, white strips of cloth.

Kessara was alone in the training room of the Cobalt Castle, going through her daily routine. As one of the highest-ranking members of her country's army, she needed to keep her skills sharp. Especially with the war raging as hard as ever.

She threw another punch, her fist connecting with the sand-filled bag with a thud. She retracted her arm, turned on her left foot, and roundhouse kicked it. Sweat poured down her temple, drops slid down her back. Her vision opened up, her mind dead-calm, calculating.

Kessara was a Commander, one of only six in the country, and the youngest ever chosen. She was sixteen when the Queen selected her, to the outcry of the many older soldiers and spies in her division. Her rank was just one below the Crown Princess Savannah herself, and was hand chosen by Queen Saphira Stoneshire three years ago to lead her armies. Of course, she was more of a spy than a soldier, and specialized in deadly speed, accuracy, and quick, clean kills. Kessara was the best of the best, and she knew it, not that she'd brag, but she knew the Queen heavily relied on her to carry out her missions. Her powers made her job much easier.

She continued, throwing punch after punch at the bag. She knew she tended to leave her left side unguarded when she hit with her right hand, so she focused on keeping her left elbow up near her chin. She bounced around the hanging bag on her toes, trying to stay light and quiet on her feet. She kept her knees bent to absorb the impact of each step, and hit the bag again. Shifting to her right leg, she threw her whole weight into a kick straight to the center of the bag. It swung backward, and then back towards her at lightning speed. She dodged, sending a forceful left-hook straight into the side of the bag-

BANG

The sound of the massive brass bells cut through Kessara's workout. She stopped dead, grabbing at the swinging bag to steady it. Those bells rang every day to signal noon. Crap, she needed to teach a class in ten minutes.

As a Commander and leader of the Queen's armies, it was her job to train the Generals of specific units. Because of her gender and age, she had to fight for the respect of the much older Generals, but she proved she wouldn't take anything from anyone. Women were usually not welcome in the military. Not that it was a rule, but it was an extremely male-dominated profession. Most, if not all, men in the program sneered at the idea that a woman could be a Commander, let alone a sixteen-year-old girl. Her first class, they'd mocked her age, saying that she would 'break like a china doll'. She'd taken one of the instigators, a man in his early thirties who'd shouted all sorts of nasty comments at her inauguration, and told him to try to take her down. She'd had him crying on the ground within fifteen seconds. He was now her star student.

Kessara snickered as she unwrapped her hands, walking toward the sink in the far corner of the room. She put her hands on either side of the sink, holding herself up while she caught her breath. She glanced in the smudged mirror. Her chocolate brown ponytail was falling out, and strands of her dark hair stuck to her forehead and temples. The mascara around her evergreen eyes was running, making her look like she hadn't slept in a week. She chuckled.

**************

"So, have you all been practicing your swordplay?" She asked her group. Kessara had rinsed and brushed her hair, tying it back up into a severe knot on top of her head. Her thick lashes had a fresh coat of mascara, and she'd changed out of her sweaty tank top and shorts into her casual Commander uniform: black cargo pants, black tight t-shirt and black combat boots. She had her silver Commander pin; two horses rearing up inside a circular frame, on her chest, right over her heart. Kessara paced back and forth before her class of Generals. They all stood in a perfect line in front of her, chests puffed out, hands tensed by their sides; at attention. None of them made eye contact with her, a rule she enforced by choosing those who did to spar with her. They never made it out without at least a black eye.

"Yes, Commander!"

She stopped her pacing, and smiled at them. They all stood up a little straighter.

"Good. We're practicing hand-to-hand combat today. It always seems to get overlooked with the higher-ups. Personally, I think hand-to-hand is the most important thing, especially when you somehow lose your weapon; which, of course, you won't." She eyed them.

"Yes, Commander!"

"Hm, how about we start with kicking." She began her pacing again. "Our legs can produce twice as much more force than our arms, so kicking your enemy will do much more damage than a simple punch." She mimed a punch at one of her generals. "During a fight, many of you will forget that you have legs. That's dangerous. Use them; they're more important than you think." An idea formed in her head, and she grinned at the line of men. "In fact, how about I demonstrate. General Ralston!" she selected a tall, beefy man from the line.

"Yes Commander!" he said, putting his fingertips to his temple in a salute.

"Step forward, General."

He obeyed; fixing his eyes on an invisible spot on the wall just over her shoulder.

"I'll make you a bet. If I can take you down with my arms tied behind me back, you give me twenty Aurum. If you win, I give you the same."

A chorus of 'oohs' and 'aahs' came from the rest of the men. Kessara shot them all a glare, and silence fell over the room again. She demanded respect; she had to. Otherwise, these men would walk all over her.

"Deal, General?"

He gave a small smile. "Deal, Commander."

A few minutes later, Kessara stood in a padded ring with her hands tied behind her back with a strip of cloth. Ralston stood opposite to her, trying to hide a smug expression. He thought he could win, but she was no idiot. She had seen him fight; he was completely fixated on his size, and never used his feet. She chose him as a good 'teachable moment', of what not to do. He would immediately try to body check her to the ground; she was only five foot eight inches tall compared to his six feet of bulk. Because he was so big, she'd need to get in close; to reduce the force behind his punches and to make it easier to get some hits in herself.

"Call it, Warwick," she jerked her chin toward a scrawny little general among the crowd.

He signalled the start of the match, but Ralston just stood there warily. Kessara knew he was nervous about hitting her, his Commander.

"Ralston, if you can't get a hit in, I will demote you to Marshal."

That triggered a reaction. He lunged for her, elbow pulled back and ready for a punch. She ducked, knowing that he threw his whole body into his punches. He hit the air above her head and stumbled as the force of his punch pulled him to the side. She jumped back to a standing position and stuck her foot out, right between his feet as he crossed his ankles to steady himself. Their ankles locked, and she yanked her foot towards her, effectively knocking him onto his face. Because both his shoulders hit the floor, she should've won the match. But she was teaching, and she shot Warwick a look to signal that the match wasn't over. She backed up to allow Ralston to struggle to his feet.

"See that, boys?" she called over her shoulder. "Watch your opponent. I can see..." Kessara slowly circled Ralston, not taking her eyes off him, "...that Ralston here doesn't know how to punch. So, I can use that against him." A wave of snickers came from the crowd, and her competitor snarled at them. She hid a sneer, and continued to circle him. He lunged for her again, this time actually using his legs; a simple one-legged kick with his right leg, but he did it wrong. He leaned into his supporting leg instead of his kick, making it weak, but also making it way too easy to get him back onto the ground. She got in close, and quicker than a striking snake, kicked his supporting leg out from under him. He crashed to the ground onto his left side with a groan.

"Oof," Kessara said, "Ralston, I might actually have to demote you. I mean, come on; you can't even get a simple kick right! Honestly, I don't know why you're a General."

This time, she went for him, with a turning kick. He stepped back with her target foot, so she planted hers, spun on her toe and planted a push kick right into his stomach. He doubled over with a grunt in pain. He stumbled towards her, and she took the opportunity to drive her knee straight into his nose. He cried out and grabbed at his nose; blood dripped through his fingers and he staggered backwards. She winked at the crowd before lunging toward him, planting a foot and roundhouse kicking him in the side of the head. He fell, unconscious, to the ground.

A round of applause echoed throughout the room. Kessara wriggled out of the strip of cloth Warwick had used to tie her hands together, and signalled for silence again.

"You, and you, take Ralston to the Hospital Wing," she said, pointing to the two closest Generals, "The rest of you; partner up, tie your hands in front of yourself, and spar for the rest of the class. I see anyone using their hands, I will personally demote you to Sergeant. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Commander!"

"Good. Get to work."

Kessara watched them for a while. She wandered around, their groups, correcting positioning, posture, and technique. They all were so used to just using their hands and bulk that they needed to keep stopping the fights to correct themselves. Their technique was all wrong, and she was about to kick them all out of her class in frustration when someone called her name.

"Blackrose!"

Kessara whirled around to find Asher Everette, one of the other five Commanders in Cygnis. He was relatively handsome; tall, dirty blonde, dark eyes, and he'd always had a crush on her. Everette was quite talented, she could admit that, especially because he was inaugurated at just nineteen years old, but he just wasn't her type. Plus, she could kick his ass. He got under skin on purpose, his way of 'flirting', which obviously wasn't working, because she hated his guts.

Her nostrils flared. How dare he call her 'Blackrose' in front of her class? He knew how much she had to fight to gain and maintain the respect of her troops.

"The Queen requests your presence immediately."

Kessara frowned. The Queen? She only saw Queen Saphira once a month to deliver her reports and to hand out missions. She'd just had one last week. Why would she want another meeting so soon?

"I'll be right there, Everette."

He nodded, and turned to leave.

"Wait!"

He turned back; eyes wide with a hint of excitement on his face.

"It's 'Commander Blackrose' to you."

**************

Kessara had quickly changed into her official Commander uniform: tight black pants, black t-shirt, cobalt blue belt, black holster around her waist, and a blue cape pinned to her left shoulder by her silver Cygnis Commander pin. The swish of her cape was the only sound she made as she strutted down the hall toward the throne room. The Cobalt Castle was massive, made entirely of blue marble. It was partially carved out of Divum Mountain; the tallest mountain in Cygnis., along with the surrounding Caelum City. They didn't call it 'the city in the sky' for nothing. It was beautiful, Kessara always lost her breath when she saw it from the outside. The polished marble shone like crystal; the towers twisted in an intricate spiral that seemed to scrape the sky. The Caelum City was so high up, she could stand on the ground, reach up and touch clouds. The Cobalt Castle was certainly the most beautiful castle she'd ever seen, and she'd been to four out of the Five Kingdoms. Of course, she'd never visited Arisia, Cygnis' sworn enemy.

Kessara neared the massive mahogany doors that divided the throne room from the rest of the castle. Two lower level soldiers stood at attention on either side of the doors as she got close.

"Commander Blackrose," they both muttered, bowing deep as she strode between them.

"At ease, Officers," she replied, inclining her head to them.

They reached up and grabbed the silver handles and pulled. The doors yawned open with a groan to reveal the incredible throne room.

It was just as beautiful as the rest of the castle, but in a more dramatic way. It was the original throne room from the very first queen, Queen Reina. It was huge, probably a hundred feet by a hundred feet. The walls were still made of stained mahogany wood and there were no mirrors or windows, for the Queen's protection. Elaborately carved torches lined the walls, lit with cobalt blue fire, and beneath them, armed soldiers stood at attention. A deep blue stretch of carpet traveled down the center of the room over the blue marble floor. At the end of the carpet sat the Queen herself atop a magnificent silver throne. It was immaculately carved, with delicate lines and curves. Sapphires were set into the armrests and expensive cobalt blue cushions were set into the seat. On either side of the throne was a large, curved table. Usually, it was filled with Lords and Ladies, and on occasion, the six Commanders. Today, only one person sat at the table to the left of the Queen.

"Enter, Kessara Blackrose," the Queen's commanding voice boomed through the room. Kessara swished past the doorway and into the room. She'd done this a hundred times, but every time her heart pounded so loudly, she could've sworn the Queen could hear it. She kept walking toward them, chin high, shoulders back. The Queen enforced this stance, as a sign of respect. She believed it to be a display of submission, that if her people had pride in their country, they had trust and respect for her.

Kessara made it to the base of the throne, and dropped to one knee in a low bow. She ducked her head, and waited for the Queen's signal.

"Rise, Commander."

Kessara rose, and looked at the Queen. She was exotically beautiful. Her rod-straight hair tumbled over her shoulders in ice white sheets and her skin was like porcelain, despite her age. She wore an impressive gown: all different shades of blue and studded with diamonds that looked like stars. But her eyes were the most striking of all. They had no colour, as white as her hair. Everyone knew about the story behind the Queen's eyes. Legend had it, Queen Saphira was blinded by her cousin and enemy, Empress Avalon Farbender of Arisia, when they were young princesses.

Kessara shifted her gaze to the woman sitting next to the Queen. Nineteen-year-old Crown Princess Savannah sat in a silver chair of her own, albeit not as fancy as her mother's, with an uncharacteristically grim expression. Savannah was loved by all of Cygnis and nearly all of Orbis. She was dazzling, with long blonde hair and wide, dark eyes. Savannah was bubbly and charismatic and she loved her people, taking every opportunity to walk among them; so, it was no wonder why everyone admired her. Today, however, her usual casual smile was replaced with a somber look that matched the Queen's.

"Knocking around your students, Commander?" the Queen tilted her head, her unseeing eyes looking at a point just above Kessara.

"I needed to teach them a lesson, Your Majesty," she replied.

The Queen gave a small, close lipped smile, and despite herself, Savannah chuckled.

"My Queen, how can I be of service?" she asked, tilting her head back to look into the Queen's face. She couldn't place it, but she had a really bad feeling about what was going to happen.

Queen Saphira pressed her lips together. Kessara's gut feeling got stronger.

"Arisia is advancing much faster than usual, and is turning her attention to the Aspero Channel."

That was not good. The Aspero Channel was the most direct line across the sea that divided the Western and Eastern continents, and therefore Arisia and Cygnis. If Arisia got a hold of that Channel, they could easily make it across the Everlett Sea and infiltrate Cygnis. Empress Avalon's demon army would take out their army of sorcerers simply because of the sheer amount of them. Kessara's heart pounded, but she stayed silent.

Cygnis and Arisia were at war, and had been at war since the Queen was a young woman. Avalon, Empress of Arisia, had been trying to take over Orbis for decades, but her cousin, the Queen, had been holding her off ever since. Avalon commanded the Forbidden Armies, and army of demons sent up by King of Zanhara, Diabolis himself. Cygnis commanded a considerable army of some of the most powerful sorcerers in Orbis, but it was tiny compared to the never-ending stream of demons poring out of Arisia. The fact was, they were losing. And it made Kessara's skin crawl to think about what might happen if Avalon managed to take over Cygnis.

"We need something to turn the tide. We need someone like you, with powers as strong as yours."

"Your Majesty, my powers have yet to be matched. Where would we find someone so powerful?"

Savannah looked at the Queen before turning her dark eyes on Kessara.

"They call him the Shadow. His powers supposedly match or even surpass yours. We believe he is the weapon we are looking for," Savannah said. She wrung her fingers.

She knew about the Shadow. He was said to be the most powerful sorcerer in the world. He controlled pure darkness and was accredited with thousands of kills for Empress Avalon herself. But he was but a fairy tale, a story parents tell their children to teach them to lock their doors at night. Kessara, on the other hand, controlled pure Ethereal energy. She called it down from Etherea, the heavens, and shape it into anything she desired. As far as she knew, she was the only one in Orbis that could do what she could. And, she was real.

"I know what you are thinking, Kessara." Savannah spoke. The Queen turned her head toward her daughter, who recoiled. "Commander Blackrose. We have reason to believe that the Shadow does exist. In the past year, the number of evidence-free kills claimed by Empress Avalon has gone from average three per week to absolute silence. And just a few months ago, Avalon put out a nation-wide search for the Shadow. This proves he'd worked for Avalon, and that she believes him to be alive."

Fascinating. The evidence makes sense, but seriously? The Shadow? There's definitely a powerful sorcerer who worked for Empress Avalon. Whether or not they're the Shadow was a different story.

"So, Your Highness," Savannah cringed, "Your Majesty, what are we to do about this?" Kessara asked.

"We are not doing anything, you are. You are easily our most qualified and powerful Commander, and I feel I cannot trust the others with this mission. Your mission, Commander Blackrose," Kessara stood at attention as the Queen said her name, "Find the Shadow and bring him to me." The Queen leaned forward in her silver throne. "This is the most important mission of your life. Don't screw it up. If you cannot find the Shadow, do not bother coming back."

Savannah gasped "Mother-,"

The Queen put up a hand to silence her.

"Am I clear, Commander?"

Kessara's blood ran cold, but she maintained her salute.

"Yes, Your Majesty."


	2. Chapter 2

What the hell am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to find a ghost story? I'll lose my title and home if I can't. Where do I start?

"Kessara!" Savannah's melodic voice cut through Kessara's racing thoughts. She whirled around to find the Princess running, or attempting to run, toward her. She wore a huge sky-blue dress of chiffon and tulle, dragging a six-foot train behind her as she struggled to keep up in her sky-high heels. Kessara knew how much Savannah despised the frilly dresses and heels. She wobbled a bit, and threw out an arm to steady herself. Kessara grinned at her friend.

"Let's go out for lunch today, hey?" she suggested with her usual shining smile.

"As long as it's on you." Kessara replied, putting her arms around Savannah's neck in a hug. She didn't know what she would do if the Queen kicked her out of the castle. She didn't think she could live without her best friend.

Savannah laughed. "Hey, didn't you just win twenty Aurum during your fight with General Ralston?"

"You're a princess. Twenty Aurum is pocket change for you."

Savannah linked her arm through hers.

"You pick the restaurant then."

"And you'd better change out of that absurd dress and shoes."

Savannah looked behind her, and then down the hall over Kessara's shoulder, as if checking for someone. Kessara frowned, but Savannah just reached down and removed her shoes. She sighed with relief and wiggled her bare toes.

"Much better."

With that, Savanah dragged her off through the castle halls and out into the stunning Caelum City.

The city was partially carved into the Glacie mountain range that surrounded Divum Mountain. It was made out of the same blue marble that the Cobalt Castle was, and its polished finish made the city sparkle in the sunlight. Each of the buildings had blue shingled roofs, giving the whole city a connected, cohesive feel. Huge, evergreen trees lined the stone streets in between silver twisting lamp posts. Nobles wealthy enough to live in the Caelum City rode ridiculously expensive white horses or in pure silver carriages through the streets.

Savanna had changed into a much simpler outfit: navy blue pants, a white button-down shirt and knee-high soft brown boots. As a Princess, however, she was required to display her royal lineage, so Savannah chose her sapphire circlet to wear over her loose blonde hair. Kessara still wore her official Commander uniform, and added her favourite sword and dagger to her weapons belt. Afterall, she was responsible for the Princess's safety.

They were in the shopping district, easily the most beautiful part of the city. It was packed with Lords and Ladies in outrageously large dresses of all colours. Many Ladies wore fasteners and held fans, and held the arms of their male, or female, escorts. Shopkeepers stood on the doorsteps of their stores and tried to coax passerby into them, waving their brand-new hats scarves and jewelry. The crowd was packed shoulder-to-shoulder, but as Kessara and Savannah walked through, the nobles made lots of space around them, even bowing to them. Kessara inclined her chin at them, but Savannah just waved them off.

Kessara knew how much Savannah loved going out into the city and seeing her people, how much she craved adventure. But she was the only Princess in the middle of a war with the most powerful and corrupt sorceress in Orbis, and had absolutely no training. Savannah was an Empath; she could read other's emotions simply by touching them, therefore, her powers could do absolutely nothing to protect her.

They turned onto a connecting street, and Kessara's favourite restaurant; The White Stallion, came into view. It matched the rest of the city, blue polished marble walls with a blue shingled roof. A mahogany sign displaying the name of the restaurant in hand painted white letters hung above the mahogany door that creaked loudly on rusted hinges as people moved in and out. A delicious waft of air smelling of fresh pastries and pasta and grilled meats flowed out the open shudders, making Kessara's stomach growl. A line of beautiful, and expensive, white horses stood quietly in a line tied up outside the restaurant. Each bore a brand with the crest of the noble family that owned it on its left haunch.

After the Queen's ultimatum, seeing her favourite restaurant made her heart pound even more. Would she ever get to eat here again?

"Come on!" Savannah grabbed Kessara's hand and dragged her through the door.

The smell was even stronger inside, which did not help Kessara's hunger. Savannah giggled when her stomach growled even louder. The White Stallion was a quaint little restaurant, with about thirty tables inside. They were all wooden tables and rustic décor, but little hints of wealth shone through with the glint of polished silverware and expensive cobalt blue seat cushions. Some of the windows were made of stained glass, so the sunlight fractured into the colours of the rainbow as it shone into the café. All the diners were of very high class. The Ladies wore massive brand-name Venus dresses, most likely tailored by the fashion designer Zoella Venus herself. The Lords wore fancy dress pants, blazers and dress shirts from equally prestigious brands. It was very busy today, servers in blue tunics rushed about with steaming plates of food on silver trays, Lords and Ladies wandered about, some of the dresses taking up the entire walkways. A violinist played cheerily in the corner, and the clink of cups, the hum of chatter and the click of heels filled the air.

The young server that came up to them dipped a low bow to Kessara and the princess.

"For two?" she asked.

"Oh, stop it, you've served us for years," Savannah chided with a dismissive wave. The server winked at them before leading them to their favourite booth by the south window.

The most interesting thing about the White Stallion was the fact that it was partially carved into the other side of Divum Mountain, and some of the booths with windows overlooked the entire Caelum City. Lydia, the server, always reserved a spot for Kessara and Savannah at one of these special booths. Kessara had always loved the City, brimming with excitement and adventure. The City was filled with cobalt blue shingled roofs, polished marble and cobblestone streets. Glimpses of white horses pulling silver carriages lined the streets and the plethora of colourful dresses added so much dimension to the view. It was always said that the marble never stops shining in the Caelum City.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Kessara sighed. "Yeah, it is."

Savannah reached across the table and took her hand.

"You will come home, Kessara. You weren't chosen to be a Commander for nothing."

She looked into Savannah's earnest brown eyes, and tried to believe her words, but her mind kept wandering back to one word: how?

"Anyways, how was your day, Your Highness?" Kessara asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

Savannah scowled at the title.

"I spent three hours watching the Sergeants train."

Kessara laughed.

"Did you now?" She lowered her voice, "any cute ones?"

Savannah sighed dramatically, feigning fanning her face.

"Oh, they are all so handsome! I can't bear to choose..."

Both girls dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"Seriously though, doesn't Her Majesty want you to marry soon?"

Savannah rolled her eyes.

"Yes. She has promised me that I will remain the sole Queen of Cygnis if I marry, but I am worried. I do not think she trusts me enough to be a strong ruler. She actually has someone in mind, but..." she shuddered. Kessara leaned forward, raising her eyebrow in a go on gesture. Savannah stayed silent.

"Well, aren't you going to tell me who?"

"Asher Everette."

Kessara choked.

"Everette? Seriously? He can barely get a strike in!"

"I know! I have already told her no, but my mother is persistent. She wants me to, quote, 'do my own research'."

Kessara snorted. "Good luck with that."

"Well, what about you? You can't spend your whole life beating up my mother's generals," Savannah countered.

She chuckled. "Sure, I can."

"Oh, come on! All the Commanders are hopelessly in love with you," Kessara rolled her eyes, "There has to be somebody."

Savannah wiggled her eyebrows, and Kessara laughed.

"I've got way too much to think about, I can't think about that."

"Floyd? Theodore? Atlas?" Savannah asked listing off the names of the other Commanders. Kessara was widely known to be the best of them all at her job, but they all were extremely talented sorcerers and definitely deserved to be there.

Kessara snorted. "Um, no."

"Are you just blind or do you choose to ignore the heart eyes they make at you?"

"Savannah!"

"What?"

Kessara shook her head at her friend.

"We should go for a ride later," Savannah suggested, taking a sip from her water. "It's a beautiful day and I think Eclipse is anxious for some exercise."

Come to think of it, she hadn't ridden her horse, Moonbeam, in days.

"Sure, but only for a bit; I should probably start researching the Shadow."

Savannah rolled her eyes. "You work too much."

Just then Lydia set down a plate of grilled lamb and steamed vegetables in front of each of them. It was easily their favourite dish, and they ordered it so many times that the servers had stopped bothering to take their orders. The way they spiced the vegetables and grilled the lamb was to die for here...Kessara's mouth watered.

A couple hours later, Kessara was back in her chambers in the Cobalt Castle to change for her ride with Savannah. The castle was divided into wings. The Royal Wing, the Servant Wing, the Hospital Wing, the Guard Wing, and the Commander Wing. That's where she lived, in the Commander Wing. The Commander's rooms were nearly as beautiful as the rooms in the Royal wing; their rank did nearly match the Princess's herself. Kessara; being a favourite of her Royal Majesty, had the best room in the wing. It was expansive and spacious, with a full kitchen complete with a quaint dining room with a single wooden table and two chairs, a luxurious bathroom with a huge bathtub, a grand vanity stocked full of makeup and hair products, and a massive bedroom with a huge, four-poster bed with a velvet comforter and silky sheets. In her sitting area, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the beautiful Caelum City. When the sun went down, the City windows lit up like fireflies. She loved the view, and could spend hours looking at it.

"Hello dear!" Gwyneth, her servant, cooed, walking through the front door to her chambers. In her arms, she had Kessara's riding gear. When she saw Kessara trying to pull her thick, dark hair into a low ponytail at her vanity, she gasped.

"Oh no, dear, not like that!"

Gwyneth was like a mother figure to Kessara. She was older, maybe in her sixties, and had worked in the castle since the Queen herself was a little girl. She was shorter, with short brown hair streaked with gray and white, and a kind face. She had been Kessara's servant for about eight years, ever since she moved in to train as a Marshal. Gwyneth was there when she was first promoted to General at the age of fourteen, and later promoted to Commander at sixteen. She had been the one to tell her to lay down the line to those generals who had mocked her that first day she was teaching. Gwyneth had really been there for all of it, so Kessara didn't see her as a servant, but a friend, a mother.

"What? Why?"

Gwyneth just shook her head furiously, scurried over to her and grabbed her hair. The thing with Gwyneth was she liked tidy hair. So, she pulled; hard. Kessara flinched as Gwyneth's firm fingers yanked her hair tighter and tighter. Finally, her ponytail was done, but Kessara felt like her eyebrows were an inch higher on her forehead.

"Ah, much better!" Gwyneth said cheerfully. "Now you're all ready for your ride."

Kessara didn't want to risk nodding for fear of her hair being pulled out of her scalp, so she replied with an "Uh huh."

She scooped up her riding gear and disappeared behind her screen to change into her black breeches and shirt. She pinned her cobalt blue cape over her left shoulder in place with her silver Commander pin. She pulled on her black leather riding boots, picked up her riding gloves, and checked herself out in the mirror. Perfect.

"Oh, Kessara, you always look so beautiful." Gwyneth put her hand on her chest.

Kessara snorted. "Don't cry now, I'm only going for a few hours."

Gwyneth's proud smile faded, and she grabbed Kessara's hand.

"I heard of the Queen's ultimatum. I fear you may be gone for much longer than that."

Kessara felt her stomach clench. She had planned to go to the expansive library after her ride to research the history of Arisia and the Shadow. But every hour ticking by made her more and more nervous. The Queen had told her to find the Shadow or be banished from the Caelum City. Kessara had no choice but to do this. She needed to do this. She couldn't lose her title, her home, her best friend. She would lose everything. So no, she wouldn't fail. Her Majesty the Queen chose her for a reason, she would not disappoint. The Queen wouldn't have given her this mission if she didn't believe she could do it.

"I will come home, Gwyneth. I will not fail this mission."

Gwyneth squeezed her hand.

"Good."

A few minutes later, Kessara was walking across the Castle ground to the stables. Savannah was already there, waving at her from the other side of the field. Her bright blonde hair was a striking contrast to the mahogany stable walls.

"I see Ms. Gwyneth has had her way with your hair," Savannah nodded to Kessara's tight ponytail.

She laughed. "I think she almost had a heart attack when she saw me trying to do it myself."

Savannah grinned.

"Come on! Eclipse has been going crazy in her stall," Savannah grabbed Kessara's forearm and dragged her into the stables.

The horses sure were spoiled here. Savannah absolutely adored animals and insisted on keeping loads of them on the Castle grounds. They had almost forty horses in the stables, each with a spacious stall and their own private field. They were pampered and groomed every day, so each horse was shiny and clean. The signature of Cygnis and the Caelum City was white horses, so nearly all of the horses in the stable were a beautiful bright white; including Moonbeam and Eclipse.

Moonbeam was a gorgeous gelding with a long white mane and tail and sleek white fur. His dark eyes were always gentle and kind, and he was always so good with everyone who handled him. Kessara instantly felt a connection with him. Two years ago, while out in town, she found him abandoned on the street. He was running around frantically, scared out of his mind. Kessara had managed to corner him and calm him down. When she looked into his dark brown eyes, she knew he was meant to be hers.

Moonbeam was always excited to see her, and today was no exception. When he heard her voice, he came running back into his stall from outside in his paddock, nickering and nuzzling her. He certainly loved his cuddles.

"You two are too cute," Savannah commented, frowning at her moody mare.

Eclipse looked just like Moonbeam, but slightly smaller. She was a feisty one, a little on the moody side. The grooms and the stable hands hated grooming her, as she tried to bite them whenever they were in reach. She never bit Savannah, but she wasn't cuddly like Moonbeam. Kessara could tell she loved Savannah though, just in the subtle ways she always had her eyes on her. How she would never bite or kick her, and was always so good when she rode her. Kessara knew how badly Savanah just wanted to cuddle her, but Eclipse showed her love in other ways.

The girls quickly tacked up their horses and mounted their backs. When they went for rides, they usually went out into the forest to the little arena out there. Someone had set up some fallen logs and branches into somewhat of an obstacle course, and their horses loved leaping over them and running around the trees. So that's where they returned today.

Savannah and Kessara chatted the whole way there. About Kessara's mission, the guards at the Castle, Savannah's moody horse, Kessara's upcoming birthday...

"What would you like for your birthday?" Savanah asked. "It's in a week!"

To be honest, Kessara totally forgot about her birthday; she just had too much else to think about. It was the second of April.

"You don't have to get me anything."

Savannah scoffed.

"Of course, I do. Now tell me what you want."

Kessara chuckled. Savannah wouldn't quit until she told her something, so she racked her brain.

"Um, jewellery?"

Savannah swatted her arm. "You have more jewellery than I do, and you never wear any of it."

She wasn't wrong. Kessara only wore clothes she could fight in, if needed. Jewellery was just something else someone could grab.

"Fine, I'll figure something out myself," Savannah hmphed.

They soon came upon the clearing with the fallen logs and woven branches. She could feel Moonbeam get excited underneath her; he lifted his head up, pulling on the bit and wanting to go faster.

Kessara told Savannah to stay wear she was so she could check the clearing. She did this every time they came, just to make sure there weren't any intruders or people who want to harm the Princess. Savanah had objected at first, but one day Kessara found a would-be assassin hiding in the bush. He was just a powerless sorcerer, but he had a bow. Savannah never questioned Kessara after that.

She found nothing, to her relief.

"Can I go now?" Savannah complained.

Kessara responded by squeezing Moonbeam into a canter, and whooshing past her toward one of the larger fallen logs. She grinned at her friend as she passed, and when Moonbeam saw the jump, he launched into a gallop for the last few strides. He threw himself, rather gracefully considering his goofy personality, over it. As he took off Kessara let go of the reins, throwing her arms out to the side and tipping her body forward. The wind caught her ponytail, and she absorbed the force of the landing in her knees. She shifted all of her weight to her seat to slow him down, and dug her heel in to his side, turning him back toward Savannah and Eclipse.

"Yes, it's safe."

"Show off," Savannah grumbled. She picked up her reins and ever-so-gently squeezed Eclipse, who immediately took off into a gallop. Kessara watched her moving toward a line of bushes. Savannah turned her head toward her and winked before Eclipse flew over one bush, then another, then another.

Kessara smirked.

"Oh, it's on."


	3. Chapter 3

Kessara was going insane. There was just nothing here. The only mentions of a 'shadow' were about umbrakinetics, sorcerers who controlled shadows, which, of course, she already knew about. They weren't even that powerful; they couldn't use their powers at night because shadows only worked with the presence of light. So, the Shadow, as in the crazy powerful, potentially homicidal, master spy, couldn't be an umbrakinetic.

Kessara slammed her forehead onto the table. She was getting nowhere here.

After her ride with Savannah, Kessara had gone straight to the expansive library in the Cobalt Castle to start her research. It was one of her favourite places to relax. It was rustic and earthy, with trademark mahogany wood walls and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Twin red-brick fireplaces cast the room in a soothing orange glow, and perfectly warmed the room. The library smelled like worn leather, old parchment, and woodsmoke, and it always gave her a warm, homey feel. The shelves were stacked with book after book, bound with leather with titles and authors printed in gold on the spines and covers. But right now, she wanted to throw every book in there into the fireplace. Kessara had grabbed every book she could on the legends of Arisia and Cygnis, and on every sorcery power she could think of but there was absolutely nothing useful in them.

She was looking for anything she could find on the Shadow, but so far, she couldn't find anything. She'd looked through all of the books on the legends of Arisia and Cygnis, and when she came up empty, she'd taken to searching through the archives for the legends of Olania, Breidia and Sirius; the other three of the Five Kingdoms. But as of now, the only thing she had was a huge pile of old books and a list of scratched out power possibilities.

Kessara groaned.

"Okay," she said to herself, grabbing the nearest feather and ink-pot. She had too much at stake to give up, "The Shadow is one of the most powerful sorcerers in Orbis, right? As of now, I'm the most powerful sorcerer in Orbis. So, his powers must be similar to mine..." She tapped the end of her feather on her chin.

"Maybe he controls Ethereal energy too?" Kessara asked herself. But something about that didn't feel right. She was the only angekinetic in Orbis, the only person who could command the energy of the Etherea, the heavens. As far as she and the Queen knew, no one else was a registered angekinetic. Although, she doubted a mysterious servant of the evil empress of a corrupt kingdom would be registered. But, the Shadow's choice of name didn't exactly scream 'light wielder' to her...wait.

"Maybe he's the opposite!"

Maybe he controlled Zanharian energy, demonic energy. Maybe he could do everything she could do with Ethereal energy, but with demonic energy. Maybe he dragged it up through the ground instead of calling it down from the sky.

"Yes!" Kessara pumped her fist. She was definitely on to something. She jumped up and bolted to the nearest shelf and grabbed every book on demons she could find.

"Kessara?" a familiar voice asked. "What are you doing?"

Kessara recognized the voice to be Theodore Dusktaker, one of her fellow Commanders, as she couldn't see of the stack of books she was balancing in her arms. She growled at him.

"I'm doing research," she said as she set the books down on the table.

Dusktaker kinda cute, she thought, but just wasn't her type. He had smooth brown skin, dark brown eyes and close-cropped black hair, tall. His power was rare, he was a contrakinetic, anti-magic. He could snuff out any spell, and sorcerer's power with a snap of his fingers. Definitely an extremely helpful power to have as a team of Commanders. He was also extremely skilled in sword-fighting, undefeated since he was a Marshal.

"Research on what?"

She turned to him, hands on her hips. She knew he wasn't going to leave her alone until she told him. "On the Shadow."

His brows practically shot off his forehead. "But I thought he was just some new ghost story all the teenagers are telling?"

Kessara sighed. "I thought so too, but Her Majesty seems to believe he's real. She wants me to find him and bring him to the Castle. She said if I didn't, I would be banished."

Theodore took a step back, eyes wide. "You really think she would do that, considering your power?"

"I think it's safer not to doubt the Queen." Kessara patted his shoulder as she pushed passed him to get to a shelf behind him.

He quickly moved out of her way, and she grabbed another book, the Forbidden Armies.

"Well, if you need any help, let me know."

Kessara would definitely not take him up on that offer, but she appreciated the gesture. But she suddenly realized he hadn't told her why he was in here.

"What are you doing here anyway?"

Theodore fidgeted with his hands.

"Oh, um, I was just curious about why you were still reading."

Kessara frowned.

"What do you mean, 'still'?"

"I mean, it's already midnight. What are you still doing up?"

Kessara whipped her head toward the nearest clock. Sure enough, both hands were exactly sitting over 'twelve'. Midnight? Already? As if on cue, she yawned.

"Um, I guess I lost track of time. Help me carry these books to my room?"

His eyes lit up, and he grabbed as many books as he could see over. Kessara chucked. Maybe Savannah was right about the heart eyes...

She grabbed the rest of the books, and motioned for Theodore to follow her.

The walk back to the Commander Wing took twice as long with the number of books they were carrying. It was especially bad that they had to step silently past the Royal Wing as to not wake the Queen and Savannah. Theodore awkwardly walked behind her in silence, and she felt bad for not sharing his obvious feelings. But then she realized that it wasn't her job to validate the crushes the other Commanders had on her. So, she strode through the hall, Theodore on her tail, with her chin up.

But right as she was about to turn a corner, she nearly slammed headfirst into someone's chest. All her books fell out of her hands, but she yanked a thread of ethereal energy down from the sky and caught them in a glowing blue net before the crash could wake up the whole castle.

"What the hell!" she hissed at the figure, but she immediately wanted to take it back when she saw who it was.

Commander Alaric Pyroak. He was inaugurated the same year she was, and was two years older than her. He was an animokinetic, he could control minds, which made him invaluable in a fight. She wouldn't describe him as pretty, more like rustically handsome. His dark blond hair was cropped short, with a few hairs that always seemed to be perfectly out of place, and the tanned skin on his arms was peppered in tiny, white scars; courtesy of his preference to fight barehanded. Kessara never understood why he did that; she favoured her daggers of angelic energy over hand-to-hand, but she was an excellent fighter nonetheless.

"I'm so sorry, Commander Blackrose," he whispered back.

Kessara shook her head. "Just watch where you're going, Commander Pyroak."

He smiled, grabbing her hand as she reached down to get her books. "Let me help you take these to your room."

"I'm fine, I can take these myself."

"Um, I think I should be going now, Kessara," Theodore stuttered. "Take these, Pyroak," He dumped his books into Alaric's arms.

"Thank-" Kessara tried, but he was already stumbling down the hallway in the direction they'd come from.

"You. Weird," she said to herself, before turning back to Alaric. Wow, was it just her, or did he seem extra tall tonight?

Alaric smiled sweetly, which made Kessara's heart beat just slightly faster, and motioned for her to come with him.

"I'm just right here," Kessara said, stopping at her door. "Thanks for your help."

"It was no problem, really." His slight Sirian accent more noticeable when they weren't whispering.

Kessara pushed the door open with her hip and...he followed her inside. Kessara's heart skipped a beat. She never really had other people in her room, so having another Commander, especially Commander Pyroak, was really unnerving.

All the ladies in the castle adored Alaric. He was handsome, sweet and quiet. He was poised and mature; just perfect for any Lady wanting to marry up. The way he glided around the castle, perfect posture, perfect accent, pristine uniform. His hair was always perfectly styled, he was an excellent fighter, and extremely powerful. What was not to like?

"Um, you can just put them down here," she said, putting down her stack on her kitchen table.

He wandered over to wear she stood by the table, and gently set down the books.

"Wow, you have the best room in the wing."

Kessara felt her face heat despite herself.

"I guess being close with the Princess helps."

She cleared her throat. "Well, I'm really tired. Thanks for the help, I'll see you in training tomorrow?"

He turned his hazel eyes back on her. "Of course. See you tomorrow."

She walked him to the door, and he bowed slightly before heading to his room across the hall.

"Wait!" she called after him. He turned around, cocking his head. "Can you do me a huge favour?"

***************

Kessara awoke to the sound of running water. Gwyneth was running a shower for her, but Kessara just couldn't be bothered to get out of bed. It was just so warm and soft...

"Oh Kessara, dear! It's nearly ten o' clock!"

She bolted upright, heart pounding.

"Ten?!"

Kessara leapt out of bed and booked it to her vanity.

Thankfully her long, dark hair wasn't as much of a mess as she'd expected, and her eyes were not too puffy. She grabbed the nearest comb and yanked it through her waves, yelping as the teeth caught a particularly large knot.

"You're going to break your hair, dear!"

Kessara raised a hand. "It doesn't matter right now; I just need you to get one of the fanciest day-gowns you can find and put it over my screen."

She made a grab for her small tube of mascara and brushed a hasty coat over her thick lashes before running over to her sink and jamming her toothbrush in her mouth.

Thankfully, Gwyneth had the perfect dress for her already laid out on the armchair.

Kessara pulled off her pajamas and wriggled into the dress, with a lot of help from Gwyneth as the dress was a lot tighter than it looked. She had to exhale completely to get it to fit over her chest, and when Gwyneth laced it up at the back, she thought for sure she was going to suffocate. But when she looked in the mirror, she managed to get enough air into her lungs to gasp.

Kessara only wore clothes she could fight in, and she was always on guard-duty at all the balls and banquets Queen Saphira held in the castle. When she had to, she only wore the simplest of dresses, and only when the Royal families of Olania, Sirius and Breidia come to visit the Cobalt Castle. But this dress made her rethink that policy. It was a deep navy blue, almost black, with a sheen of icy sparkle layered over the dress which made the fabric look like it cut out of the midnight sky. It was tight around her torso, all the way down to her knees, and the bottom flared out around her ankles, with a long train trailing behind her. The neckline scooped down her chest, and when she turned around to see the back, she saw that the entire back was exposed in an intricate design of lace and ribbon.

"Blue is definitely your colour, it makes the green in your eyes glow," Gwyneth commented, fiddling with the corset back. Gwyneth had a pet-peeve about uneven bows.

She was right, she looked amazing in blue. But despite the delicate elegance of the dress, she was secretly glad the skirt was long enough to trail on the ground. She compromised on the dress; she certainly wasn't going to wear heels as well.

A knock on the door nearly made her jump out of her skin, until she remembered who it was.

"Come in!"

The door opened to reveal Commander Alaric Pyroak, dressed up in a fancy Venus suit and looking very handsome indeed. Kessara nearly dropped her hairbrush when he walked through the door. He wore a smoky grey waistcoat over a pressed white dress shirt. He'd rolled up the sleeves past his elbows and he had his black suit coat draped over his arm. His black dress pants were expertly pressed and tailored, and his brown leather boots were obviously recently polished.

"Morning, Commander," Commander Alaric said, bowing. She didn't miss how his eyebrows rose slightly when he saw her, though.

Kessara cursed herself for blushing. Maybe she would wear those heels...

"Thank you for helping me. I didn't think the nobles would take kindly to an interrogation by uniformed Commanders."

Some of the more prestigious cafés and breweries only allowed admission to nobles if they had partners, and Kessara couldn't exactly bring the Princess with her.

"It was no trouble, really. The carriage is waiting outside; I assumed we would be going to the Valiant Saloon as most of the more esteemed nobles seem to like it there."

Kessara's jaw dropped.

"Wow, excellent."

He gave her a shy smile.

He offered her an arm, and she hiked up the skirts of her dress and walked with him down the castle stairs and out to the waiting carriage. He helped her up into the carriage, as the tightness of her dress made it difficult to get her leg up high enough, and climbed in after her.

In the close proximity, she could smell his floral cologne. Kessara shook herself.

"So, what are we doing?" Commander Alaric asked.

Kessara started. She never actually told him what she was looking for, yet he still blindly helped her.

"We're struggling in this war. Avalon's army is growing stronger by the day, and the Queen has decided we need something to turn the tide. Well, someone. She tasked me with a solo mission; to find the Shadow."

His eyes widened. "The Shadow? But I thought he was just an urban legend."

"Her Majesty doesn't think so. Neither does the Princess. Avalon recently has put out a nation-wide search for him, which proves he is alive and he worked for her."

He went quiet for a few moments.

"If he worked for the enemy, what makes you think he will come work for us?"

Kessara...never thought about that. She had been so focused on how she was going to find him, she never thought about what she would do when she did.

"I have no choice but to try."

He frowned.

"Why not?"

"The Queen threatened to banish me if I couldn't make this happen."

"And you really think she will go through with it?"

Kessara stared at her lap.

"I can't take that chance."

They both fell into an uneasy silence for the rest of the carriage ride.

The Valiant Saloon was a very prestigious place, and Kessara hated it as soon as Commander Alaric helped her out of the carriage. It was full of the most snobbish of noble men and women, who sashayed around in the most expensive of clothing, turning their perfect little noses up at everyone who passed. The men all marched around with their chests puffed out, and the ladies on their arms strutted about with their corsets done up so tight Kessara half thought they broke their lower ribs. They all sat around gossiping about one another, and then plastered fake smiles on their faces before going to talk to those they were just slandering. If there was one thing Kessara despised, it was disingenuous people. Specifically, disingenuous nobles.

The saloon itself, though, was beautiful. It was polished white marble with large, blue-tinted glass doors. Carved into a huge slab of crystal was the name, the Valiant Saloon. Inside, the sharp white tables provided a stark contrast with the navy-blue walls, and the combination of the heavily tinted windows with the yellow glow of the immaculate torches lining the walls gave the whole place a prestigious, expensive feel.

Commander Alaric offered her his arm again, and she took his elbow and walked through the massive glass doors into the dining room. Right away, a server dressed in a short, cobalt blue dress came up to them. She smiled at Commander Alaric

"Do you have a reservation?"

Kessara blanched. "No, we do not."

The server shook her head. "I'm sorry, no reservation, no table."

Kessara growled. She did not have time for games. Thankfully, she thought ahead to bring her Commander pin. She dug it out of her clutch, and grabbed the server's wrist, pulling her down to see the pin. Her eyes widened, and she nodded.

"Not a word. Understood?" Kessara hissed in her ear. The server nodded again, before escorting them to a table. When they had settled into their booth and the server had left to get their drinks, Commander Alaric raised an eyebrow at her.

"What? I don't have the time or the energy to struggle over this. We needed a table, I got us a table."

"You do know what my power is, don't you?" he asked with a small smile.

Oh, right. Alaric's power was to control minds, an animokinetic. He could've just made her give them a table without her even knowing. Kessara couldn't help herself; she smiled back.

"Look, Kessara-"

Kessara threw a hand up, effectively silencing him. Her eye had caught sight of a couple sitting a few booths down. The woman, a plump older Lady with a fluffy pink dress of tulle and chiffon, got up, and said something to her partner, who was still sitting in the booth. Kessara squinted at her mouth, trying to read her lips.

I'm going to the washroom

Perfect. She pounced.

"Go distract her," she ordered, jerking her chin towards the woman.

He blanched.

"What? I can't-"

"I'm going to talk to him."

"How do I-?"

"Just use your handsome charm. Go!"

He threw up his arms in a what the hell gesture.

She mouthed trust me as she got up from her booth. Kessara made a show of getting up slowly, keeping her back arched unnaturally, tossing her chocolatey hair to create a look of effortless volume. Commander Alaric's jaw dropped down to the floor. She put on her best 'model' face; pursed lips, hooded eyes, and tilted her head back to reveal her chiseled collar bones, and her shoulders down to show more of the warm brown skin on her chest. Kessara didn't have the model body of the other young nobles. She was more muscular than thin; her arms had definitive biceps and triceps, her stomach a washboard of sculpted abs, and her thighs and calves wide and strong. She certainly did not have the gorgeous leanness of the other young women there, but she certainly knew her muscular curves were desirable, and she knew how to use them to her advantage. She rested her hands on her hips to accentuate her waist, and strutted to the man's booth.

She felt Commander Alaric's eyes boring a hole in her back the whole way there.

The man was about the same age as the woman, she assumed she was his wife, who was just there. His hairline was receding slightly, but the darkness of his hair unfortunately drew more attention to it. He was a little on the plumper side, same as his wife, and wore a very expensive-looking Obelisk suit, from the designer Amira Obelisk. He was reading a newspaper when she grabbed the chair across from him. His head whipped up, and his beady eyes widened as he set them on her. She made a point of leaning on the chair back and arching her back before sitting down. Kessara resisted the urge to throttle him as she watched his eyes rove from hers down her body and resting on a spot on her chest. She reminded herself that that was what she wanted.

"Hello, my name is Lady Lucia. Mind if I sit?" she asked, turning her voice up an octave. She didn't wait for an answer before elegantly sitting in the seat across from him.

He leaned forward, resting his pudgy face on his hands. "What can I do for you, little lady?"

Kessara bit back a snarl. Men.

"I was hoping you could answer a few questions for me. You seem like the perfect man to talk to."

He smiled an oily smile. "Of course, whatever you need, my dear."

Perfect, she had him right where she wanted him.

"Do you know anything about that legend, the Shadow?" she asked casually, playing with a strand of her hair.

"Yes, I do."

She looked at him through her eyelashes. Well, come on then...

"The Shadow is a Commander of Arisia, working just under the Empress herself. He's a spy, and has assassinated the most Cygnis noblemen in Orbis. It is rumoured that he was even the mastermind behind the murder of the Olanian royal family."

Kessara furrowed her brow. About three years ago, the Olanian king Ehren, his wife Nascha, and the twenty-two-year-old Crown Prince Emrys were all murdered in their beds. All three were found in pools of blood, their throats expertly sliced. Thankfully, the murderer did not find the other young prince, seventeen-year-old Prince Orion, who then became King. Kessara had only just been appointed as a Commander, so she was sent to work the case. According to the coroner, each of the cuts seemed to be made by different knifes, but no murder weapons were ever found. Kessara had pronounced the case 'unsolved' after months of finding nothing. She made a mental note to go over the old case file when she got back to the Cobalt Castle.

"Mm, is that all you know?" she asked, tilting her head.

He nodded, his eyes still wandering all over her. Kessara braved a glance behind her at Commander Alaric. He was chatting up the man's wife, leaning a broad shoulder up against the wall, smiling his shy, perfect model smile. The woman was blushing deeply, giggling behind her expensive fan. He looked over his shoulder, and she caught his eye. He nodded, barely, before excusing himself from the lady. He bowed, taking her hand and kissing it, before walking away. Ah, Commander Alaric; always the gentleman.

Kessara turned her gaze back on the man in front of her.

"Well, thank you for your help..."

"Lord Gennady."

Kessara resisted the urge to snort. "Lord Gennady."

She rose from the table, not bothering to be pretty and slow, and left for the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Commander Alaric was waiting outside, arms clasped behind his back.

"How did it go?"

"I think I got a lead. He said the Shadow was rumoured to be behind the Olania assassinations."

He pressed his lips together. "That's right, you worked on that case, didn't you?"

"Yes. I'm going to go over the case file when we get back to the Castle, see if there is anything I missed." But Kessara still felt like she didn't have enough information. She had guessed his power, knew his rank, had a lead on where she could find more, but she still needed to find out more intelligence on him. She just didn't know where. Now that she thought about it, she doubted the nobles would know much about urban legends, which meant...she needed to talk to the poor!

"I have an idea, but I need to change," Kessara glanced around wildly for the nearest carriage. She spotted one, a bright silver drawn by two shiny white mares. She grabbed Commander Alaric's wrist with one hand, hiked up her skirts with the other, and ran, or rather hobbled, towards it. Thankfully, the carriage driver recognized her, and yanked the horses to a halt. She hastily thanked the driver before struggling to climb into the back, and dragging Commander Alaric with her.

"What is your idea?" he asked, once she fixed her dress, which had gotten twisted underneath her in her haste to get into the carriage.

"The nobility wouldn't really know much about urban legends, it's more of a lower-class teenager thing. Urban legends are their only form of entertainment, so they'll know all of them. I need to talk to them, but I can't exactly do that wearing this," she gestured to the sparkly bodice of her dress.

"Good plan."

************************

Kessara squeezed through the huge metal gates that lead to the graveyard.

She'd gone back to the castle and changed into the dirtiest, grimiest, poor-looking clothes she could find; a pair of brown pants, a white tunic that she hadn't washed after bathing Moonbeam, a soft brown mucky boots. She needed to fit in, after all.

While wandering through the Caelum City's shanty town, she'd overheard someone say Shadow, and spotted a group of teenage boys, about seventeen to eighteen, listening to one of them tell a story in a graveyard. Kessara was nineteen, so she knew she would fit in, and decided to go see what his story was all about.

"The Shadow, the most powerful sorcerer in Orbis!" The story-teller, a boy about eighteen, with scruffy white-blond hair and ratty clothes, said dramatically. Kessara resisted the urge to huff at the 'most powerful' part, but continued her trek across the swampy graveyard dirt toward the group. The story-teller comedically held a candle under his chin, making his eye sockets look black as night, and his smile look extra sinister in the eerie glow. The other boys 'oohed' and 'ahhed' at his proclamation.

"Legend has it, he was the Commander for Avalon herself. He was blindly loyal to her, and whatever she asked him to do, he would do it. In the last ten years, he's killed over a thousand people in Olania and Arisian traitors, with his knives of darkness..."

Knives of darkness? Interesting...

Kessara stood at the back of the group, listening to the story, but the story teller spotted her. Ugh, great.

"Hey, who are you?" he asked, removing the candle. His face was quite boyish and goofy, despite the obvious malnutrition. Kessara felt a twinge in her gut. All of the other boys turned around, setting their curious eyes on her. Their faces were also drawn and gaunt, and she could clearly see the outlines of their shoulder bones. Their shirts hung off their gangly bodies, and they needed to tie scraps of fabric through their beltloops to keep their jeans from falling off their bony hips. Despite her weird feeling, she put on her best 'confident' face, and smiled back.

"Giselle, just interested in your story," Kessara answered with a wink.

"Welcome to the graveyard club, Giselle," he replied, "name's Warren. Now," he put the candle back beneath his chin. "the Shadow!"

Kessara chuckled at his silliness.

"He is said to slip into his victim's houses in the dead of night, cloaked in darkness, and slit their throats with his daggers of the night. He would then return to Avalon's clutches, where," he wiggled an eyebrow at his friends, "according to my sources, they were in love!"

In love? How would anyone be able to love Avalon, that wretched demonic-

"Oh yes," the boy, Warren, said as his friends gasped and murmured, "Avalon found him on the streets, saw the raw potential he had, and recruited him into her ranks. He commanded her army of demons, and they fell in looove..."

Kessara rolled her eyes. Ten years is a long time, he must be at least in his mid thirties...

"But! The legends say that Avalon did something unthinkable, something so horrible, even the Shadow couldn't stand it...so one night, when Avalon was asleep in Nox Palace, he snuck out of the room. He jumped out the window, thirteen stories, breaking almost every bone in his body, and escaped!"

Kessara frowned. What could be so unthinkable that could cause a homicidal enemy spy to commit treason? Warren didn't seem like he was going to tell them, so she continued to listen.

"He crawled into the Malum Woods, and disappeared!"

That's odd, because the Malum Woods is about two-thousand kilometers from Zulvalar, the capital of Arisia and home of Nox Palace...

The Malum Woods were the wildest lands in Orbis. Thickly forested with millions of spruce trees almost trunk to trunk, sunlight never seemed to reach the forest floor. In fact, it was said that dawn never breaks in the Malum Woods. The most hideous of monsters were believed to reside there, and legend had it that the highly-elusive Fae Realm entrance was somewhere hidden in the dense brush. Only a handful of people have gone into the Malum Woods and made it out alive. And none have made it out unscathed. Kessara had been sent to personally interview three of the people who had managed to survive whatever horrors lurk between the trees, and she could confidently say that she would never go into the Malum Woods. Ever.

"That's it?" one of the boys yelled to Warren. He shrugged. "As of now."

The Malum Woods. The more she learned about the Shadow, the more she realized that she might have to go West across the Everlett Sea to find him. Kessara sighed.

The boys grumbled and dispersed, but Kessara was too absorbed in her thoughts to notice, and soon she was the last one there. Well, besides Warren. He jumped down from his perch on a grave stone.

"You're not really named Giselle, are you?"

Kessara recoiled. His dark eyes bored into hers. "You're from the Cobalt Castle, I recognize you. You're always with the Crown Princess.

Kessara stayed silent. She had no doubt that this Warren kid could read her like a book. She didn't need to give him answers, he'd already found them.

"Commander Blackrose, isn't it." He didn't bow, not that she expected him to.

She pursed her lips. "You know, you would make a great spy."

She left, squeezing out of the graveyard gate and off into the night, leaving Warren standing there alone with a very confused expression on his face.

*******************************

When Kessara marched through the huge mahogany doors of the library, freshly changed into her black Commander uniform, her cobalt blue cape pinned over her left shoulder with her silver Commander pin, Commander Alaric was already sitting at her usual table, leaning over a thick, leather-bound book. She recognized that book; she'd picked it up during her research, The Forbidden Armies.

"Were you in my room?"

Alaric nearly leapt out of his skin, nearly tipping his chair. Kessara didn't flinch.

"You left to pursue your 'lead', I decided to pursue some of my own," he said once he'd composed himself.

"By going. Into. My. Room?"

"It wasn't in your room. It was on the shelf."

Kessara frowned. "I took that book to my room last night. How did it end up here?"

He frowned. "I have no idea-"

"It doesn't matter right now," Kessara stood back up, smoothing her black shirt, "have you found anything?"

He stared at her a second longer before huffing a rubbing his jaw.

"Yeah, but it doesn't look good for Cygnis."

Alaric looked grave, his lips pressed together and his hazel eyes devoid of warmth, or life. He turned them to the book. Kessara's heart began to pound.

"The legends say that when Diabolis was cast out of Etherea, the Great Goddess sent him to Zanhara through Orbis. He crashed through the ground in the center of the Silva Forest. It is said that the divides between the realms is thinnest there. You know the legend of the Queen's blindness?" He looked up at her.

Of course, she knew the legend. When Queen Saphira and Avalon were young princesses, their mothers, Queen Elvira of Arisia and Queen Esperanza of Cygnis, had their annual meeting. The queens were sisters, and were very close. Queen Elvira had two children. A son and heir and a daughter: Avalon. Avalon desperately wanted to be Queen, but her sorcerer brother Caspian was much more powerful than she. He was a hallucikinetic, he could create illusions from thin air, while she was a mere hyetokinetic, a rain manipulator, rather a disappointment to her mother. Princess Saphira came along with her mother, and was exploring Nox Palace, formerly the Lux Citadel. Saphira wandered into the library and came across Avalon sitting in a circle of shredded books. She was talking to Diabolis, her eyes were red. He promised her to make her the most powerful sorceress in the world, and she accepted. Saphira hid, but Avalon found her. She tried to kill her, but Esperanza with her flyrokinetic, force-field, magic managed to stop the spell, but not well enough. Saphira was blinded, and the two Queens were killed in the blast. Saphira escaped, barely, and then declared war on Arisia.

"When Avalon made that deal, Diabolis sent millions of supernatural soldiers up through the ground in Zulvalar. Everyone believes the Forbidden Armies are the damned souls of fallen soldiers of the losing sides of war, but they aren't. They were never human. They are created by Diabolis himself, and Avalon just drags them up from the depths. Which means..."

"There's an infinite supply," Kessara whispered. "Which means we can't win."

"No," Alaric grabbed her wrist, squeezing gently. "Which means we need to go to the source. We need to kill Avalon herself."

"Which means..." Kessara laughed darkly, "I need to head west."

Kessara frowned.

"Wait, what do you mean, the ground is thinner where Diabolis crashed through into Zanhara?" she asked.

Alaric pursed his lips.

"It is said that the divides between worlds are thinnest there. Like a closed doorway, it is still possible to get through, but not without a key. The fact that Avalon is so desperate to get across the Aspero Channel to get to the Eastern Continent makes me think that she wants to get through the doorway."

Kessara chewed her lip. It made sense, but it just didn't feel right. She'd made a career listening to her intuition, she was going to see where it took her.

"What if it isn't her who wants to leave their realm? Diabolis gave her extreme powers and an infinite army of demonic soldiers; he would not have done that from the goodness of his heart. He made a deal with her!"

Alaric pressed his lips together. "Interesting..."

Kessara began to pace, thoughts racing as a theory formed in her mind.

"Think about it. The tales of Diabolis say he was cast out for trying to overthrow the Great Goddess, yes? He wants power. He wanted to become the King of the Three Realms, but he can't do that locked away in Zanhara. So, when a desperate young girl came to him for help, he saw it as a way to reclaim his power!" Kessara stopped pacing. "Avalon wants to raise Diabolis from Zanhara."

Alaric pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is not good."

"Indeed. Is there any mention of specific dates where the veil is thinnest? Like how the Fae entrance is supposed to get wider on the Solstices?"

Alaric grabbed the book, flipping through the old, yellowed pages. The few seconds it took him to find the answer felt like years.

"Actually, yes, but only every seventy-seven years."

Kessara inhaled sharply. "When was the last time?"

Alaric squinted at the pages. "Doesn't say."

She cursed. Where would that be?

"Would that kind of information be in the archives?" Alaric asked.

Kessara leaned against the table. "I highly doubt it. What would I even look for? What happens when the veil thins?"

Alaric turned back to the book. "It says here that lower level demons and angelic servants can fall through the doorways and end up lost on earth. Breeding with humans created sorcerers. The more powerful the demon or angel was, the more powerful their sorcerer ancestors are. You," he turned his pretty hazel eyes on her. "You must be a descendant of an extremely powerful angel, considering the type and magnitude of your power."

"And these beings are immortal, yes?"

He nodded.

"So, if I can track down one of these beings, I can find out when the next Thinning is?"

He smiled. "Exactly."


	5. Chapter 5

Kessara couldn't move. She knew she needed to go west to find the Shadow, to find the stranded demons and angelic servants, but she knew as soon as she left the castle, she would not be allowed back until she succeeded.

Alaric was just sitting there, staring at her with worried eyes. She could understand why; she felt like she was about to pass out.

Nausea bubbled up in her chest, and the room began to blur and tilt. She blinked hard, and shakily she pulled out one of the chairs, and almost collapsed into it. All she could think was how she couldn't come home. How she would lose everything.

Alaric nearly jumped out of his seat to grab her, and carefully lowered her into the chair. "Kessara! Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?" he asked, still holding her forearms.

She waved him off, tearing her hands through her hair.

"I need to go east," was all she could get out. "I need to succeed." And then another horrible thought. "I need to say goodbye."

Alaric pressed his lips together. "I could go with you."

Kessara's draw dropped. "Come, with me."

He nodded. "You wouldn't be alone-"

"No."

Alaric frowned. "No?"

Kessara's vision began to clear, the nausea and dizziness faded away. "Absolutely not."

"Why?"

"I said no. End of discussion. I will not let the queen lose two Commanders."

"But-"

"NO!" Kessara yelled. "Don't you get it? If you leave, you will never come back! I will never forgive myself if you were banished as well. I am leaving for the war-ridden western continent to find a potentially non-existent, psychotic enemy spy, who also happens to be the most powerful sorcerer in the world. I have to cross the Aspero Channel. If you come, two valuable Commanders may die or be banished. The answer is no." She glared at him. "If you follow me, I will kill you myself. Do not test me. Death would be more merciful than a lifetime of banishment."

And with that, she grabbed the book, tossed her cape over her shoulder, and strutted out of the library, leaving Alaric still kneeling in front of her now-empty chair, worriedly staring holes into her spine.

*************

"Commander Blackrose."

"At ease, Officers."

"My Queen."

"Rise, Commander."

It was the next morning, and Kessara called a meeting with the Queen to relay some of the intel she'd gathered and her plan to head to the Western Continent.

"Commander Blackrose. Why have you called a meeting with me today?" The Queen's unseeing eyes were fixed on an invisible spot just to Kessara's left. She sat in her silver throne; her cobalt blue dress spread put around her ankles in sparkling waves; her hair falling in ice-white sheets down her shoulders. To her right sat the princess, looking extremely worried. She wore a beautiful pale-pink tule dress that perfectly complimented the long blonde curls that tumbled down her back.

"I have found some leads on who and where the Shadow may be."

"Do you, now?"

Kessara reminded herself that the Queen could not see her nod. "Yes, Your Majesty."

The Queen, made a 'go on' gesture, and so she did.

"Through my research, I've decided I may know what his power is. Considering that he may be just as powerful as I, I've concluded his power must be very similar to mine, yet not the same. My theory, is that he controls demonic energy the same why I control ethereal energy."

The Queen nodded.

"Secondly, Your Majesty, through speaking with one of the noblemen in the City, I have discovered that many believe the Shadow was behind the Olania assassinations, which may be why I was not able to find anything during my investigation."

"Yes," the Queen mused, "it was strange how someone as talented as you could not find results."

Kessara bowed again. "Thank you, my Queen."

"Continue your report, Commander."

Kessara rose, and continued.

"According to some of the legends the residents of the City's shanty town, the Shadow betrayed Empress Avalon and left her Empire. Apparently, he left Nox Palace, and disappeared into the Malum Woods."

"Interesting."

"Indeed, Your Majesty. Which is why I must go west to find him. I request your permission to leave the Cobalt Castle, cross the Aspero Channel, and head to the countries Olania and Arisia, and if needed, the Malum Woods."

Savannah's eyebrows shot up. "Commander, you-"

She fell silent The Queen stood from her throne. In her hand, a long staff of pure ice grew from her palm, and she slammed it on the marble floor by her foot.

"You may go to the western continent to find the shadow, Commander Kessara Blackrose. You leave in a week. But remember my promise. If you come back to the Cobalt Castle without the Shadow in tow, you will be hanged from the Gallows. So, I suggest you find him. If you do not, do not come back."

Savannah cringed hard and look down into her lap.

"Yes, Your Majesty. I will not fail Cygnis."

The Queen returned to her seat. "Dismissed."

Kessara bowed once again, nodded at Savannah, and marched out of the room.

"Commander Blackrose," The two officers guarding the door said again, standing at attention. Kessara nodded once to release them, and continued down the marble hallway to the Commander Wing. Kessara's heart wouldn't stop pounding. She couldn't hear herself think. The Queen's original ultimatum certainly did not include hanging. Now it was succeed or die. Her adrenaline was through the roof, she could barely see straight.

Succeed or die, succeed or die, succeed or die

Kessara needed to get some built up energy out. Spending the last few days with her nose in a book did not do much to ease her stress. She bolted to her closet, grabbed a tank top and a pair of shorts, quickly changed, and made a run for the training room.

It was an expansive room on the west side of the castle. The outer wall was entirely made of glass windows, and the rest of the same mahogany wood that lined the walls of the throne room. Heavy bags hanging from the high ceiling lined on side of the room, speed bags on the other side, and a large foam mat in the center. A line of wooden human-shaped targets stood against the other wall, and on either side of it shelves full of every weapon imaginable. Daggers, swords, bows, spears, whips, and boxes upon boxes of strips of white cloth.

Kessara immediately darted to the closest box of cloth, yanked two out, and hastily wrapped them around her knuckles.

Punch after punch she threw at the heavy bag. It never stopped moving, and her knuckles never stopped stinging. Sweat poured down her face, causing strands of her chocolatey hair to stick to her forehead and temples. She turned on her left foot, roundhouse kicking the side of the bag. Her foot bounced off the bag and she landed, throwing a jab and cross before darting around the bag's back swing. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hardly hear herself think. She stepped left, a threw a right hook, using the force of her step to drive extra power into her punch. Hanged from the Gallows, hanged from the Gallows, played on repeat in her brain. She ducked, as if someone threw a hook at her, and drove an uppercut straight into the side of the bag. Spinning on her right foot, she jumped, and planted a kick on the side of the bag as hard as she could.

BANG

The carabiner connecting the heavy bag to the ceiling snapped, sending the bag flying away from her. A hole in the side allowed the sand to flow out. She'd just broken a heavy bag. Oh, Great Goddess.

The crash was certainly enough to break her out of her funk. Kessara shook herself, swiping her hands over her forehead to smooth back some of those sticky hairs.

"Kessara? What happened?" a melodic voice asked from the entrance to the training room.

Kessara whirled around to find Savannah, dressed in shorts and a tank top, her blonde curls tamed into a long braid down her back. Her brown eyes were wide with worry, staring fixatedly at the broken heavy bag across the room.

"Um, the carabiner was weak, it snapped while I was using it." It wasn't a lie.

Savannah's brow furrowed. She could tell her friend didn't believe a word she'd just said, but thankfully she didn't press.

"Okay. I just wanted to check up on you. My mother's threat..." Savannah swallowed hard. "I will not let that happen."

Kessara sighed, and began to unwrap her hands. "I doubt she will give you much choice in the matter. Why have you come here, Savannah?"

Her friend walked closer. "I want to be able to do what you do."

Kessara froze. "You what?"

Savannah grinned. "I want to learn to fight." She gestured the bleeding heavy bag on the ground a few feet away. "You are the perfect person to teach me."

Kessara shook her head, "Savannah, that was from emotion, not skill. No good fighter fights like that."

"Then you can show me how a good fighter fights!" Savannah grabbed her hands. "Avalon's army grows stronger by the day. I am a huge target, as I am to be the next queen. The people love me, so if she allowed me to live, I would be her biggest competition for the throne. Avalon wants me dead, Kessara. But I refuse to leave my people. I need to protect myself in order to protect my people. So please," she squeezed, "before you leave, teach me."

She was right. Savannah was a massive target. If the demons were to invade the castle while she was away, she would have no way of protecting the princess. She certainly would not trust the other commanders to do it, no matter how skilled and powerful they were. It was a good idea.

"Fine, I will teach you."

Savannah squealed, but quickly clamped a hand over her mouth before looking over her shoulder to make sure no one heard.

"First lesson: no true warrior squeals," Kessara chuckled.

"Yes, of course, master," Savannah bowed to Kessara, who recoiled. Crown Princesses do not bow to anyone but their queens.

"Eek, don't do that!"

Savannah giggled. "So, Commander, where do we start?"

Kessara marched over to the next heavy bag in the line.

"Ooh, do you want me to punch it?" Savannah got into what she thought was a fighting stance.

"Oh no." she pointed to the far wall across from them. "You see that wall? You're going to run, touch it, run back, and high five me."

Savannah frowned. "Okay then?"

She took off at a quick jog for the far wall, touched it, and ran back to high five her.

"That wasn't so hard."

"Good. You have forty-nine more to go."

Her jaw dropped. "Excuse me-"

"Second lesson: Fighting takes fitness. If you're too tired to fight, you'll die. So, hop to it then!"

Savannah growled, before taking off at a much more comfortable jog.

About ten minutes later, Savannah was dripping sweat. Her bright blonde hair looked brown from the moisture, and her face was bright red. Kessara hadn't let her walk for even a second. She barely jogged to finish her last high five, and once she did, she leaned over and put her hands on her knees.

"I hate you," she panted.

"You'll thank me when you have to run for your life," Kessara responded.

"I think I'm going to throw up."

Kessara jumped backward. "Please don't."

She chuckled, but winced. "Ow, my whole body."

Kessara laughed. "Two-minute break, and then we're working on basic combinations."

Savannah groaned.

They must have worked together for hours on combinations, techniques. Kessara was shocked at how quickly her friend was picking everything up. Most of her generals took double the time to learn half the skills. Her starting technique was laughable, but it only took a few reminders for her to understand it. Her calves were extremely stiff, most likely from all her years wearing heels, so Kessara gave her stretching homework for it.

Kessara felt a lot better about leaving indefinitely next week, but she was still worried. Savannah's speech about being a target really shook her to her core. What if Avalon's army really did close in and kidnap her, or worse? And she would be gone, searching for some fairy tale across the world. The Queen's cold face appeared in her minds eye, and Kessara clenched her fists. But she took a deep breath, and relaxed. She was loyal to Cygnis, and therefore to its Queen.


	6. Chapter 6

"Happy birthday!" Savannah's pretty voice cut through Kessara's deep sleep. She groaned, rolling over to be greeted by her friend's smiling face.

"I'm not awake yet," she moaned, burying her head in her pillow.

"I got you a preseeeennt!" Savannah huffed when Kessara didn't answer, and then proceeded to grab her by her wrists and drag her into a seated position. Kessara rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and opened them to see Savannah sitting on the edge of her bed. She was already dressed up like a princess; looking very earthy in a pale green chiffon gown with a tule sash tied in a bow around the middle, her blonde hair intricately braided and falling down her back. A quick glance around the room showed a huge box wrapped loosely in...newspaper? And it was shaking, slightly.

"What...the hell, is that?"

Savannah grinned ear to ear. "I know I said I got you a present, but really I got us a present."

Kessara's eyebrows rose. "Us. Okay..."

The bed creaked as her friend rose, and gestured Kessara to follow. At first, she was slightly weirded out at the fact that she was just wearing a tank top and pajama shorts next to the perfectly dressed Crown Princess, but she reminded herself that this was her best friend, and followed.

"Well, open it!" Savannah was nearly jumping out of her skin with excitement.

Kessara complied, and tore off the newspaper to reveal...a fist-sized brown ball of fur in a carboard box. And when it unfurled its little head, when she looked into its big brown eyes...

"You got us a puppy?" Kessara squealed, reaching into the box and picking it up. It was adorable; velvet soft fur, little floppy ears and a heart-shaped pink nose.

"Yes! I named him Fluffy."

Kessara shot her friend a look.

"Seriously? Of all the names out there, you chose 'Fluffy'?"

"Fine! Then you name him."

The little dog was twisting around in Kessara's hands, trying to lick her fingers.

"What about...Teddy? He looks like a little teddy bear."

Savannah clapped her hands together. "Perfect."

Kessara put down Teddy, who immediately flopped over onto his back, and began to roll in the carpet, his pink tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. She giggled.

"Why did you get me, us, a puppy?"

Savannah's smile faded, just slightly. "Just another reason for you to come home."

Kessara's stomach tightened.

Savannah threatened her with stall-cleaning duty if she didn't wear something nice, so Kessara emerged from her bedroom in a short, emerald green satin dress and silver ankle boot heels. She'd left her chocolate waves down today, and brushed a light coating of emerald green eyeshadow onto her eyelids along with her usual mascara. She had pinned her white cape over her left shoulder with her silver commander pin, as usual. Her stomach growled, loudly.

Savannah had taken Teddy with her to the kitchens, and told Kessara to meet her there.

The castle kitchens were located on the very bottom floor, right next to the ballroom so the servers could attend to the guests quickly. Usually, the ballroom was set up with a bunch of tables for meals for the castle residences. It was sectioned off, however, with specified tables for the different residents: Commanders, healers, guards, servants, and cooks. The Royals were supposed to be served in their Wing, but Savannah always came down to eat with the rest of the people. It was just one more reason the people adored her. The ballroom was absolutely gorgeous. It was partially situated underground, so the only windows were in a line near the extremely tall ceiling It was all white marble, matching the rest of the castle. From the massive ceilings hung crystal chandeliers that cast the whole room in intimate, beautiful lighting. A huge marble staircase lead from the second floor to the ballroom, framed with mahogany and silver thread, with silver railings going down either side. Kessara always felt glamourous when she went downstairs for breakfast, like the models for Venus or Obelisk displaying the newest clothing lines on the catwalk in the Caelum City.

Today, Savannah was waiting for her at the Commander's table, along with Alaric, Asher Everette, Theodore Dusktaker, Floyd Pitwood and Atlas Sanlyn; the other Commanders. They were all dressed up in Obelisk suits, not their usual formal Commander's uniforms. Savannah was laughing and chatting with all of them, showing off her new puppy. He'd taken a liking to Floyd; an audiokinetic with shoulder-length white-blond hair and amber eyes. He was extremely bubbly, and one of those people who was instantly likeable. He was poking and playing with Teddy, who was rolling around on the table in front of him, letting out high pitched barks.

Everette was staring fixatedly at Savannah, who was trying her hardest not to make eye contact. He was talented, but not the nicest person to be around. He had this weird obsession with women, and he thought he was the most desirable man in the world, when in actuality, the few people who are attracted to him favor his status and wealth over his so-called 'winning personality'.

Savannah looked up and waved at her, and the other Commanders followed suit. Savannah glanced beside her at Alaric, who was watching her walk down the steps, and wiggled her eyebrows at Kessara. She shook her head at her friend.

"Commander Blackrose," Atlas rose from his seat and bowed. Kessara waved him off. "Happy birthday." Atlas was a reserved young man. He had an extremely rare power, a motukinetic, manipulator of motivations. He could turn soldiers against their country, change their loyalty, and make them fight for Cygnis with a snap of his fingers. His hair was inky black, with olive skin and almond dark eyes.

"You do realize our rank is the same, Commander Sanlyn?" Kessara teased. "And thank you."

"Oh Kessara! Your puppy is just the cutest!" Floyd said, eyes sparkling.

"Isn't he?" Kessara replied, moving to sit between him and Alaric. "His name is Teddy."

"Perfect." Teddy was sitting on his little bum, and Floyd was playing with his tiny little paws. Kessara laughed.

Alaric leaned over and whispered, "Happy birthday."

Kessara couldn't stop herself from blushing. Savannah raised her eyebrows, just slightly, from her spot at the end of the table.

"Thank you. Her Highness threatened me with stall-cleaning duty if I didn't wear something nice." She winked at her friend, who shrugged without remorse.

Suddenly, Kessara yelped when something warm and heavy fell into her lap. She looked down to see Teddy, looking very confused as to wear he was. Floyd had a hand over his mouth, shoulder shaking with laughter. "I am so, sorry Kessara, I didn't realize he'd be that clumsy."

Kessara burst into laughter, and picked up the little puppy, holding him close to her face. His mouth lolled open like a smile. "Floyd is right, isn't he? You are just so cute!"

He licked her nose.

The table all laughed.

"Now I know what to get Floyd for his birthday!" Savannah teased.

Floyd whipped his head toward her. "Oh, you'd better- um, Your Highness."

Just then, one of the kitchen staff, a young boy in an apron came up to their table to tell them that breakfast was ready. Savannah caught Kessara's eye, so when the rest of the Commanders eagerly rose from the table to go get some food, Kessara scooted over beside her friend.

Savannah leaned over and rested her chin on her palms.

"So, what is the deal with Commander Pyroak, hm?" she batted her eyelashes.

Kessara felt her face heat. "There is no deal."

Savannah raised an eyebrow.

"There is no deal!" Kessara insisted.

Savannah leaned back in her chair and shrugged. "You might want to tell him that."

Kessara couldn't stop herself from glancing at the breakfast lineup, where she locked eyes with Alaric. He was holding up the line, looking at her, and Floyd had to kick him in the leg to get him to move.

She shook her head. "I'm leaving for the Western Continent in two days. I don't know if I will return. I have no time or energy for something like this."

Savannah's smug smirk quickly faded to a tight line, and her brown eyes turned glassy.

"You must come home, Kessara. I will fight my mother to the death to keep you from the Gallows. Your life does not end here."

"I refuse to put your life in danger. Do not go against Her Majesty, Savannah, she is more ruthless than you think. I would rather die knowing that you are safe than come home and have you be in danger," Kessara leaned closer, and grabbed her friend's forearm, "Remember your training. I have an inkling that the people are growing scared, and desperation can make people do very dangerous things."

Savannah swallowed hard. "Okay."

***************************

Kessara stood outside the Castle gates, heart pounding. She stood in the Gallows; a massive square situated just outside the castle gates. The ground was smooth, polished white marble, and a massive tree stood at the center. It was called the Hanging Tree. Gnarled black branches reached out from its twisted trunk like demonic arms, and smaller twigs curled out like broken fingers. Old bloodstained ropes and nooses hung from the branches, swaying ominously despite there being no detectable breeze. The entire place was dead silent, so quiet that Kessara could hear each breath enter her lungs.

She stared up at the Hanging Tree, wondering whether or not her next time in the Gallows would be when one of those nooses is tied around her own neck. She shivered at the thought.

The Queen rarely executed people, mostly because people rarely broke the law in Cygnis. However, that was mainly because the Queen had absolutely zero tolerance for it. There were no courts in Cygnis, as there was only one sentence: death by hanging. The first time Kessara had learned this fact, she wondered why the Queen would go through the messy process of hanging when they could just get a necrokinetic, a sorcerer who can kill people instantly, to be the executioner. No one ever answered her question, but she figured it out for herself. The Queen wanted to send a message to the rest of the people. Hanging is gruesome and messy and slow, a death no one would want to die. Fear is a powerful tool as a ruler, and Queen Saphira used it brilliantly, albeit ruthlessly.

A kind of determination washed over Kessara.

"I refuse to return to the Gallows," she whispered. "I refuse to be hung from the Hanging Tree. I will go to the Western Continent, find the Shadow, and bring him back to the Castle. I will succeed, and I will come home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers! (I know you are few but I really appreciate those who do read this story) I just wanted to BEG you guys to comment on my stories! I absolutely love any feedback y'all can give, so PLEASE comment! Thanks again for reading <3


	7. Chapter 7

Kessara stood on the balcony of her room, staring out at the beautiful Caelum City. She was in her official commander uniform, her cobalt blue cape pinned over her left shoulder with her silver pin. She'd tied her long waves in a loose knot on top of her head, and wore soft black leather boots. The strands of hair that had fallen out blew loosely in the breeze as she leaned on the railing of the balcony as if it was the only thing keeping her standing. It was around eight-o-clock in the morning, and she'd awoken to pack two hours earlier.

Today was the day she left the castle.

Moonbeam was already saddled and packed with all her supplies in the courtyard. He wore lightweight steel armor; and over it two large bags hung from either side of him. Over her own shoulder, Kessara had her own bag, slumped in the corner of her room.

She still needed to get her holster and weapons, so she took a deep breath of fresh air before returning to her room. Her stomach was in knots, and her heart wouldn't stop pounding, but Kessara forced herself to breathe, to think. All of her training had taught her that fear kills. She'd learned to stop her hands from shaking, she'd learned to slow her heartbeat; after all, a commander of armies could not show fear to their generals and soldiers. A true commander is the embodiment of power, of leadership, of confidence. So, Kessara continued to breathe, and her heartbeat slowed, and her shaking fingers evened.

Just as she'd finished shutting the glass doors to her balcony, two sharp knocks split the silence.

"Come in!" she called, grabbing her hip holster off the table.

The door opened and she was greeted by Alaric. He didn't look so good, however. His usual dark blond hair was dull and messy, and his face was drawn and gaunt with dark purple bags under his eyes. His normally crisp and pressed Commander uniform was replaced with a dirty grey T-shirt and wrinkled black sweats. He nearly stumbled into her room.

Kessara frowned. "Alaric? Are you alright?"

He swallowed hard. "I forgot you were leaving this morning; I accidentally slept in."

That explained his questionable attire and tousled hair.

"Come to see me off?" she teased. He didn't laugh, just looked at her with his pleading eyes. Kessara looked down, tying her hip holster around her waist.

"Where are you going first?" he asked as she reached for her thigh holster. Kessara jerked her chin toward her table, and Alaric wandered over.

"Wow."

Kessara had mapped her entire route a few days before on a large map of Orbis with red ink and sewing pins. She would head due west toward the Aspero Channel; straight through Cygnis Wild Country. She was most nervous about that part of the trip, as Wild Country was the dwelling of many hundreds of different creatures, and quite a few of them dangerous. Next, she would travel to the Sarcona River, and follow it to the small coastal town of Wallowdale. She would spend a night there, asking questions, investigating, and then get on the next boat that would take her south along Cygnis' coast to the southern, larger port town of Duskorn. If she were to just head straight across, she would've traveled directly through the Dead Zone; a mysterious and dangerous part of the sea where ships seem to enter but never leave. She would spend a night or two in Duskorn before catching the next ship across the Mori Passage: the safest part of the Aspero Channel, and land on Calams Isle; a small island in the middle of the Everlette Sea. She would travel across the Isle, looking in as many small villages as she could, and then boat through Kraken Cove to the tiny coastal town of Saulua, Olania.

Alaric frowned. "Wild Country?"

Kessara shrugged. "I have no other choice. Wild Country is a massive territory right in my path. I must go through it."

Alaric turned away. "I know, it's just...it's dangerous."

Kessara didn't know how to feel about this conversation. On the one hand, she was annoyed by the fact that he didn't think she could handle herself; especially since it wasn't her first time travelling through Wild Country, and she was considered the most accomplished and powerful sorceress in the world. But, on the other hand, she was flattered that he cared about her.

"You forget I am the most powerful sorceress in the world. I can take care of myself."

He smiled shyly. "Yeah. I guess I do."

Kessara grabbed her thigh-holster off the table and busied herself with buckling it up.

Just then, a conch horn echoed throughout the castle grounds. It signalled the Queen's arrival to the castle gates in five minutes.

"That's my cue," she said. Alaric's face fell, but she could not stay. "Goodbye, Alaric."

"Goodbye, Kessara. I will see you when you return."

Kessara picked up her bag, and headed for the door. But before she went through it, she turned and took one last longing look around the room. She would see it again, but the tiniest inkling of doubt in her mind still nagged at her. Would she? No, she would. She had to. Kessara took a deep breath, and walked out the door, leaving Alaric standing in her room.

********************

Kessara was sweating in her uniform. She'd tied up her final bag to Moonbeam, and was now standing at attention at the Castle gates, waiting for the queen to appear. It was only April, so the outside air was quite mild, but Kessara's nerves were getting the best of her. It didn't help that her uniform had a thick jacket over a long-sleeved shirt, and fur-lined boots. She stood at the end of a long blue carpet leading from the gates to the entrance to the castle. On all sides of the carpet stood thousands of people; citizens of the Caelum City, come to catch a glimpse of the elusive Queen. They all chattered excitedly; women in massive blue dresses with matching fasteners, fanning themselves as they held the arms of the men who accompanied them. They wore crisp white suits with blue waistcoats and blue capes. Savannah stood in the crowd, just to her left.

In one hand she had Moonbeam's reins, who was trying to wipe his nose on her perfectly clean jacket. Kessara was desperately trying to keep his big, snotty nose away while continuing her salute. She certainly could not greet the queen with a big green smear on her uniform. She glanced at Savannah, who was trying not to laugh. But despite this, her eyes were red and puffy, and her mascara was slightly smeared. Kessara shot her an exasperated look as Moonbeam lunged for her sleeve again. Savannah snorted.

Just as she was about to slap his shoulder, the conch horns blew again, and the crowd silenced. The queen, looking utterly majestic in a massive blue satin dress that trailed behind her pure white mare, stood at the other end of the carpet. Flanking her on all sides were the other five Commanders, looking equally as regal in their crisp uniforms with their cobalt cloaks pinned over their left shoulders. Alaric rode next to the queen; right where she usually rode. He couldn't even look at her; just stared straight ahead. The queen was waiting for Kessara's entrance display; a shower of ethereal energy, energy Kessara controlled, to show the queen's descendance from the divine and the power of her Commanders. This was tradition ever since Kessara first came to the castle, always shown when the queen entered anywhere public. The queen cared greatly about appearances, and today was no different.

So, Kessara closed her eyes and opened her senses. Ethereal energy swirled above their heads; the closer to Etherea, the more powerful the energy. Kessara imagined her hands extending up to the surface of the pool of energy. Her invisible fingers twirled some around her hands, and pulled it down to Orbis. She could feel her power core engaging, feel the receptors in her fingers sensing and controlling the energy, shaping it into a handful of marble-sized orbs of pure blue light. She felt the energy leaking into her veins through her skin, and circulating around her body with every heart beat. Her muscles flexed, and she knew her eyes were glowing blue by the slight heat in her irises as the energy circulated up to her face. Kessara opened her eyes, and threw the orbs up, directing them to the air above the queen where they burst into a shower of blue sparks. Before they could land on the queen, Kessara made a grabbing gesture with her hand, and all the fragments of light stopped dead. She threw her hand up to the sky, and the sparks shot up and disappeared back into Etherea.

"Commander Kessara Blackrose!" the queen's voice boomed. She and the Commanders began to march toward her, their matching white horses stepping in perfect synchrony, their hoofbeats echoing off the cobblestone that lay beneath the blue fabric.

Kessara saluted at her name.

"You have been given an imperative task! To locate the infamous Shadow and bring him back to the Caelum City. His power will turn the tides in the war against Arisia." With each word, the queen drew closer and closer, until Kessara could feel her white mare's breath on her cheeks. Moonbeam took a nervous step back, suddenly disinterested in Kessara's sleeve.

"Commander Blackrose knows that failure is not an option!" the queen gestured to the crowd now, her unseeing eyes sweeping to her left and right. All around her, the lords and ladies shrank backwards.

The queen snapped her head toward her, and it took all of Kessara's effort not to cringe.

"Do not return empty-handed, Commander. Must I remind you of your fate if you dare?"

Kessara swallowed hard, glancing over her right shoulder at the Gallows. She dropped to her knee in a deep bow.

"You need not, my queen."

The crowd whispered.

"Silence!" the queen roared. "Rise, Commander."

Kessara rose.

"Leave. Return with the Shadow, or die."

Kessara could feel Savannah flinch.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The queen turned her horse around, and marched back to the castle doors. As she passed, the lords and ladies dipped deep bows. The Commanders hesitated, looking at her with fearful eyes. Then Commander Sanlyn did something unexpected: he saluted. The crowd murmured. There was a specific order of events each time a mission was given. Saluting one's equal is not one of them. But Commander Sanlyn continued, nodding to her before turning his own horse around to the castle doors. Commander Dusktaker's eyes tracked Sanlyn, and he too, saluted before swinging his horse around. The other Commanders followed suit, each saluting to her before pursuing the queen. Finally, only Alaric remained. His eyes were worried, and his hairline was slick with sweat. But he smiled at her, saluted, and left her alone.

Well, not quite alone.

Savannah walked up to her; eyes glassy. "Look at you, Miss 'nothing's-going-on'?" she said. Her voice was thick, and her normally porcelain skin was red and splotchy.

Instead of teasing her back, Kessara dropped to her knees in front of Savannah. She grabbed her hand in hers, and ducked her head in a deep bow.

"Kessara-"

"You have been the greatest friend I have ever had, my Princess. You are beloved by the people because you care so deeply. You are beautiful, and humble, and powerful. Do not lose these qualities, Princess. I will return, and I will see you again."

Kessara stayed there, on her knees before her friend, trying to swallow the lump in her throat while Savannah's quiet sobs rung in her ears.


	8. Chapter 8

Kessara forgot how absolutely boring travel was. Cygnis was a massive country, most of it being open planes with smaller towns scattered throughout. The largest cities: Astuvia, Cantasile, Angouteaux, were hundreds of kilometers apart. It would take her at least ten days to make it to the next major city, but the small town of Givedra was only a two days journey. Nevertheless, she was bored out of her mind. Kessara had only left the castle three hours ago, but riding on Moonbeam, looking at nothing but the grassy hills and open sky; well she was beginning to look forward to Wild Country. At least staking vampires wasn't boring.

Despite her unrelenting boredom, the absolute silence; apart from the rhythmic clop clop clopping of Moonbeam's hooves on the gravel road beneath her, gave her time to think. It was a two days journey to Givedra, therefore she would arrive between seven-o-clock and ten-thirty in the morning.

Kessara tried to think back to the last time she'd visited Givedra. Three years ago, when the Olanian royal family was murdered, Kessara had been sent to investigate. She'd stopped in this very town. The people here were certainly not the same as the people in the Caelum City. Last time, she'd been flanked by two generals, and she only decided to go to Givedra to sleep somewhere warm, not to gather intel. Regardless, she knew exactly how to sneakily gather the information she wanted; all she had to do was dress pretty and walk into one of many saloons and she'd have men and women falling all over her.

Once she arrived in Giverdra, she'd visit the station house and speak to its Marshal, ask about any strange murders, anything unexplainable.

Each city in Cygnis had a station house; a sort of extension of the palace where Sergeants and Deputies worked under a singular Marshal to keep the peace. All of whom answer to her, a Commander; so she would have complete jurisdiction to rummage through Givedra's dirty laundry.

She doubted many Shadow hits would appear on this side of the Aspero Channel, but any information she could gather, even if it was just a hunch.

Kessara squinted. The sun was going down; it must've been around seven-thirty. She needed to set up camp. Trouble was, there was no cover for kilometers. She sighed. For tonight, she would have to make her own cover.

Kessara picked up Moonbeam's reins and steered him off the trail. They walked for a minute or so, just so they were far enough off the trail that she wouldn't be bothered by passing travellers. They rode over a small hill, and Kessara tipped back in her saddle to help Moonbeam keep his balance as he stepped down the slope. Perfect. They were far enough down the hill that passing travellers couldn't see them, giving them some extra cover.

She swung her leg behind her and slid off Moonbeam's back, groaning as her stiff legs hit the ground. Ah, it felt good to stretch.

"Okay, Moonbeam. You are going to stay right there, for just two minutes, okay?" she cooed. He snorted and started eating the grass at their feet.

"Whoa whoa whoa no! No no no, aw dammit. Now you have grass in your-" he lifted his head up, bright green slobber pouring out of the corners of his mouth, "-bit. Seriously, Moonbeam?" Kessara sighed. She didn't have time to fish out of the grass from his mouth right now. She needed to set up protections for the night.

Kessara closed her eyes and reached up to the sky. She pictured the pool of Ethereal energy, eternally swimming above the clouds, and imagined her invisible fingers reaching up and pulling some down. She felt a direct line between her own energy core and the reserve in Etherea, felt the energy streaming down that line into herself. She morphed and changed it into five large sheets, assembling them into a sort of box around herself and Moonbeam. She opened her eyes, and there it was: four glowing walls and a roof creating an eight-by-eight-meter clearing. Moonbeam barely looked up from his feast.

Kessara placed her hands on her hips. "Perfect."

She set to work unpacking her tent. Soon, her camp was completely set up, with her small tent in one corner, Moonbeam in another. She'd removed the bit from his bridle for the night, just to make him more comfortable. Now, it was time to gather some fire wood. Kessara through out a hand, temporarily creating a doorway in her angelic energy shield, and she set off in search of some branches and twigs in this tree-less land.

It took her nearly thirty minutes to gather enough wood to create and maintain a small fire, and waddle back to camp. There were no trees for kilometers, so the only wood she could find were in the form of small twigs. After a few minutes of trying to spark a friction fire with a stick and a piece of string, she gave up and just summoned a spark from her fingertips out of ethereal energy. The dry moss she'd put under her teepee of twigs caught the spark, and Kessara scrambled onto her hands and knees to blow on the small flame.

"Aha!" she pumped her fist when the flame caught the wood. Moonbeam didn't look up from the grass. Kessara frowned at him. "Try not to look too excited."

That was another thing about travel: it was quite lonely. Kessara missed being able to talk to someone who actually understood what she was saying. It was only one more quiet night after this one before she made it to Givedra. She could survive another night talking like a crazy person to her horse.

The sun had fully set by then, so the only light came from the bright glow of her blue energy walls and the small fire she'd created. Kessara unpacked some food from Moonbeam's saddle bags: dried beef wrapped in plastic, and raw carrots. Now she really couldn't wait to get to town; she needed some good food. Although Givedra wasn't exactly famous for its cuisine...

She found an extra stick, scraped the bark off with her silver knife, and stuck two carrots onto the end. Kessara may have been camping out in the middle of nowhere, but she was not going to eat raw carrots. She stuck them over the fire for a few minutes, along with a chunk of dried beef, until the carrots had a thin charred marks and the meat was slightly warmed.

Kessara took a bite of beef. Eh, not horrible, she thought. It wasn't the delicious food made by the cooks back at the Cobalt Castle or the incredible chefs at the White Stallion, but it was certainly better than eating grubs and mostly edible plants on her journey.

About an hour later, the moons were both above her head, and Kessara decided it was time to sleep. She gave Moonbeam, who was already snoring, a quick pat before crawling into her tent and curling up on her blanket.

The ground was unforgiving and rocks dug into her back, but she crashed almost instantly. Using her power twice today really exhausted her. Magic was not infinite. To harness and use one's power, their own internal energy must engage and be used. Most sorcerers tend to sleep right after using their power; some eat a lot of food to replenish the energy lost. Because of the magnitude of Kessara's power, she tended to get much more fatigued after strenuous use. However intense training had increased her stamina exponentially, so she was usually able to just sleep more deeply at night rather than sleeping immediately after use. Tonight, she slept like the dead.

**********************

After another cold, lonely night in the middle of the plains, Kessara was ecstatic when she saw the Givedra skyline on the horizon. She urged Moonbeam into a long trot and within a few minutes, she arrived at the entrance to the town.

It was a small town; with pine wood buildings accented with red brick. Hand-painted wooden signs decorated the town, advertising saloons and bars galore. The soft hoofbeats on gravel changed to sharp clop clop clopping as the ground changed to stone. Despite its small size, Givedra was highly populated. People roamed the streets on horseback and on foot, in chariots and skateboards; running in a sort of chaotic system. No one seemed to bump into each other; everyone looked to know exactly where they were going. People darted in and out of each other, hitching rides on carriages, ducking under horse's legs. It was quite amazing to watch, but it didn't stop Kessara from cringing as she witnessed a few close calls. It was bustling and loud, people chattered and laughed together, wooden wheels ground against the stone ground and hundreds of hoofbeats matched her own horse's.

Coming to these small towns was always a culture shock to Kessara. Givedra was not as wealthy as the Caelum City. It wasn't as clean and polished and beautiful. But the snotty stuffiness of the Caelum City was missing as well. There wasn't a poofy dress for as far as she could see, and through the chaos Kessara saw people stopping to chat with one other, laughing together, and then moving on the chat with the next person. Everyone knew each other, everyone was friends with each other, and people weren't gossiping behind one other's backs. They lived in a sort of harmony, something Kessara was fascinated by. Back at the Castle, everything was about competition and politics. One always had to be better than the next person. That is how she lived, how she had gotten to her rank now. Kessara had been ruthless in her plight to success, and took no prisoners. She couldn't afford to be nice; she'd never survive. She'd stomped all the competition under her leather boots, and she'd emerged victorious. But that was a lonely way to live, so seeing people who lived harmoniously was an intriguing experience for her.

As soon as Kessara entered the town on her white horse wearing her blue cape, it was like the commotion immediately paused. The bustling crowd slowed, looking up at her with curious, fearful eyes. A small part of her, very small part, enjoyed the looks. Slightly. But the rest of her wanted to just get through as quick as possible. The people parted, creating a sort of path for her through the busy main street. All around her conversations slowed and quieted. She could hear them switch from lighthearted chatter to puzzled whispers as she walked past them. Moonbeam didn't seem to notice; just kept prancing by, but Kessara forced herself to sit up a little straighter, keep her eyes focused straight ahead. She caught some words here and there: Commander, war, Gallows. Kessara cringed when she heard the whispers of the Gallows.

Thankfully, she saw the white marble stationhouse just ahead on the right. She urged Moonbeam into another trot (which took some work; he wasn't in the mood to go faster than a lazy stroll) and soon arrived at the front entrance to the building. A small crowd of people had followed her to the station house, staring confusedly at her. Some were eyeing her horse. Kessara's nostrils flared.

"Begone. I have no need for you here. There is nothing you need to be worried about." She turned to those who were checking out Moonbeam. "Stay away from my steed." Kessara 'touched' the line between her and Etherea, and flashed her glowing eyes. The people quickly dispersed after that.

She tied Moonbeam's reins to the post outside the stationhouse, walked up the white marble stairs, and pushed open the mahogany door. The inside reminded her of the buildings in the Caelum City. The walls inside were lined with mahogany wood panels with large stained-glass windows framed by blue velvet curtains decorating the room. A long cobalt blue carpet stretched from the mahogany door to the large office at the back of the room. The Marshal's office. Tiny cubicles lined the walls, and she watched Sergeants and Deputies squeeze two or three of them into a single-person desk. All around her, Sergeants and Deputies were rushing around with paperwork and weapons and...brooms? The Marshal had Deputies sweeping? Kessara frowned. That's not...

As soon as she entered, all of the Sergeants and Deputies who were bustling around stood at attention right where they were. All of them, wearing black pants and shirts with cobalt blue suit coats and armor, just dropped everything and saluted. Kessara inclined her head, putting her hands behind her back to march through the soldiers toward the mahogany office doors. She opened the door to the Marshal's office.

The Marshal was a middle-aged man wearing the same black pants and black shirt, with a cobalt blue cloak instead of a suit coat like his Sergeants. He was larger, with balding brown hair and a thick goatee. When he looked up from his paperwork and saw Kessara, his jaw dropped. Before he could say anything, Kessara turned her back to them, back to her men, who were still saluting.

"At ease, gentlemen."

"Co-Commander Blackrose! I didn't-" the Marshal stuttered, rising from his seat. Kessara held up a hand to silence him.

"What is your name, Marshal?"

He hastily bowed, and Kessara resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Bennet Schumacher, Commander."

Kessara began to lazily pace around his office. It was very cushy. His office chair looked more like a sofa than a chair, and his bookcase was filled with personal knick-knacks, rather than books. He had loads of space to spare, and it looked recently renovated. She frowned.

"Answer me this, Marshal Schumacher. Why are you sitting in here, in this expansive office, while my men are trying to complete work in tiny spaces, or are cleaning your stationhouse?"

Schumacher paled. "Um, well, Commander, uh-,"

Kessara raised an eyebrow. "Exactly. By the time I return to this town, I expect each of those men to have their own work space. And your office downsized. A lot. Do I make myself clear, Schumacher?"

"Crystal clear, Commander. I will get on that right away."

Kessara cocked her head. "My appearance in Givedra is not to comment about your office space, Schumacher. I am travelling west, in search of the Shadow."

She didn't think it was possible for Schumacher to get paler. She was wrong.

"The-the Shadow? But, Avalon...assassin...-"

Kessara waved him off. "Yes, Avalon's assassin. I need any information you've got."

Schumacher frowned. "But, how would I know?"

She sighed. "Unsolved cases, strange events, never-before seen powers? Anything?"

He thought for a moment. "Well, there was this one case..."


	9. Chapter 9

"Come here, Moonbeam!" she coaxed. Moonbeam wasn't having any of it; snorting and shying away. The horse in the stall next to his; a gorgeous bay mare, had bit him on the butt as he walked by, and now he refused to go near her. The trouble was, there were no other available stalls to move him to. "Come on baby, you're okay!" He shook his head.

"Wimp," she grumbled.

Kessara had arrived at the only tavern in the town a few minutes earlier. It was called Regina Tavern, and it looked as one would expect from a small town. It was two stories high, made entirely of rotting mahogany. Rows of dirty, yellowed windows separated the rooms, and a steel archway framed the small doorway. Kessara couldn't say she was excited to sleep there, but it certainly was better than sleeping on the hard ground in the middle of nowhere.

Because horseback was the most common mode of transit, most hotels and temporary residences have their own stables. Regina Tavern was no different. It was made of the same rotting wood that the hotel was, and only had six stalls. All but one were already taken, which made trying to get Moonbeam into it, that much harder. It didn't help that she was trying to keep a case file together in one hand.

"Come on, you spoilt palace pony. I don't have all day!"

He whipped his head toward her, looking offended.

"Well, am I wrong?"

He snorted.

She gestured to the mare, who had now lost interest as was eating her hay in the opposite corner. "She's busy! She's not going to do anything."

He whinnied.

Kessara pinched the bridge of her nose.

After about ten minutes of cooing and coaxing and begging and attempting to drag Moonbeam into the stall, he finally relented. Kessara nearly cried with relief when he skittishly entered the stall. She quickly slammed the door shut behind him, tossed a flake of hay at him, and bolted for the tavern doors. It was just as rotten on the inside as it looked on the outside. As soon as she set foot through the doors, she was assaulted by the smell. It was damp, old and musty; she coughed. Directly in front of her was a large front desk, tended to by a very old man. Very, very old. He could barely stand on his own, his face like old leather. His back was hunched forward, and he leaned heavily on the desk. His hair, or lack thereof, was nothing more than a few wispy white fibres behind his ears. Honestly, Kessara half thought he was a zombie of some sort. She couldn't understand how he was still alive and standing...barely.

"Hello sir, I am in need of a single room, please. My name is-"

"Here's your key!" the old man said, slamming a rusty key down on the counter. Kessara frowned. "But I haven't signed-"

"Ma tavern don't need no signature, li'l lady." He winked, or at least, she thought he did. Kessara's nostrils flared.

"I am not a 'little lady'. I am a Commander for the queen. Do not disrespect me like that again," she snarled. She snatched the key off the counter. "Which way?"

The man waved a gnarled hand toward a hallway on his right. She inclined her chin at him, picked up her bags, and marched down the hall.

The smell was worse in the enclosed space, and Kessara fought down a gag. Looking at the peeling pink wallpaper, she could see why. Where the wallpaper separated from the ceiling, she could see that the drywall was moist and mushy. Cobwebs hung in the corners, caked in dust, and the floor was slippery and covered in grime and grease. Kessara's nose scrunched. She was excited to sleep in an actual bed last night. Right now, however, she almost missed the cold hard ground of the Cygnis plains.

Kessara fumbled with her key. Engraved into the rust was a number: room 18. She scanned the doors as she passed. Room 16, 17, 18. Perfect. She jammed the key into the rusty lock, jiggling it a little to get it to turn, and pushed the door open. It was a little sticky, and she had to put her shoulder into it to get it to move, but she managed to shove the door open to reveal...a tiny room. It was nearly the size of a broom closet back at the castle, and absolutely filthy. It had peeling, grimy pink wallpaper with the same moisture stains on the ceiling and the rotting wood floors. In one corner was a small twin bed with gross beige sheets and matching comforter, and in the other, a large desk. A worn brown rug with frayed edges lined the floor. Kessara wrinkled her nose in disgust and dragged her bags inside. She tossed them onto her bed, slammed the file down on the small table that was situated in the other corner.

Schumacher didn't tell her anything about the file, only that he just couldn't figure out who could've done it. He didn't even explain what "it" was. He just handed her the file, and shut himself back in his cushy office. Kessara's huffed. The disrespect...

The folder had a wax Cygnis seal on it: two horses rearing up together in cobalt blue wax. Looked official. She used her fingernails to peel off the seal, and looked at the first page. On every case file, the first page holds the names of the victims, and the type of crime it was rules. The very first word: homicide. She figured as much.

The second line said the name of the victim: Amaris Blackrose.

Kessara recoiled.

"Mother?"

************************

The howling of the demons was beginning the fade, but he couldn't stop running. He could never stop running. His chest burned, his legs ached, but the blood streaming out of the gashes on his back made him too easy to track. All he could do was run.

His vision swam, and nausea hit him hard. Blood. He'd lost too much blood.

He dodged trees left and right, leaping over rocks. It was the dead of night, but he could see through it like it was the height of day. But his ability was weakening as the blood poured out of his back. Black spots danced in front of his eyes and he stumbled.

The howling grew louder. The demons were coming. The woods... the woods were too loud...

He stumbled again, tripping over branches and roots. The world grew darker by the second. He didn't have much time, he could already feel the coldness seeping into his bones. His hands felt clammy, and his hairline was slick with sweat.

His chest cramped hard, and he cried out, knees buckling. He collapsed the ground, knees and forearms scraping against the rocks. He couldn't see, couldn't think.

The world slowly faded to black, and the last thing he felt were strong arms taking his, dragging him deeper into the woods.


	10. Chapter 10

Kessara couldn't breathe. Her mother...her mother was murdered in Givedra?

She tore open the file, flipping frantically through the pages.

Kessara was never close with her mother. She was an escort, a fancy lady; making her money by spending nights with nobles. She would be gone all night and sleeping all day, leaving Kessara in charge of driving their cheap travel cart turned carriage. She learned to drive it at just six-years old, learning to create fires and cook even younger. Many nights she would have to sit out on the streets of whatever town they wound up in and beg for food scraps. Kessara herself was a product of one of Amaris' nightly outings. Amaris always resented her, just for being born. She hated the fact that Kessara had magic; powerful magic, magic that Amaris never had. She was a powerless sorcerer, the bottom of the social pyramid. One night when Kessara was eleven years old, her mother went to work and never came home. She waited in her cart for her for two days before she'd figured she'd run away or died.

Kessara found the autopsy file and scanned it. Blunt force trauma to the head, neck, and torso. Multiple defensive wounds on forearms. C-spine was fractured in multiple places. Internal bleeding in the thoracic and abdominal cavities. Beaten. She was beaten to death.

Kessara expected to feel sad or angry. Maybe even happy. She expected to feel something. But she didn't feel anything. Amaris only held the title 'mother' because she gave birth to her, but she was not her family. Savannah was her family. Amaris was just another murder victim. But despite this, the tightness in her chest didn't cease. The blood didn't return to her face. The shock of seeing her mother's name after all these years trying to forget it really shook her. She took a deep breath, steeled her nerves, and read through the coroner's report again.

The amount of overkill was interesting, simply because it didn't match the Shadow's typical M.O. From all the cases she'd seen and heard about, including the Olania assassinations, the murder weapon had been an unidentifiable knife used to slit the victims' throats. All very impersonal, professional, unfeeling. This case had too much emotion. The attacker must have been incredibly angry during this murder to do all this damage. This wasn't a kill for a job, this was a kill out of anger.

She flipped back to the front where the evidence pages were kept.

The victim was found in an abandoned barn, blood spattered everywhere. She flipped the page, found a page with an index fingerprint scan and a thumb scan. A big red stamp read 'undetermined' at the top of the page, but Kessara never took that into consideration when she re-opened cases. It was considered 'undetermined' when she said so. Again, none of the potential Shadow cases involved any kind of physical evidence. A master spy without a name certainly would not leave two fingerprints. This case just wasn't a Shadow case.

Kessara considered giving up on the case. After all, she didn't exactly have a lot of time. But this case...it was personal. And something about its 'unsolved' status smelt fishy to her.

She flipped the page and found a toxicology report. She'd always figured her mother was into drugs or alcohol, but her name wasn't on the top of the page. Instead, it said 'perpetrator'. This was a report on the killer. The killer must've lost quite a chunk of flesh during the struggle to get such a detailed toxicology report, so her suspects would have to have major scarring, most likely on the forearms or chest. She scanned the document, and found the chemical name sorcistium krientide. It sounded so familiar; Kessara racked her brain to remember its common name. Then she got it: histrionis. Histrionis was a powerful illegal drug used by powerless sorcerers and humans to give them temporary magic. Depending on the dosage, the user's magic could last between three hours and three days. However, too much could cause the user to burn to death from the inside out. The nature of the user's magic depended on the person's own DNA, but it was always quite weak and unexciting. It was more of the illusion of magic rather than the real thing. The killer must be a magicless sorcerer or human, narrowing her suspect pool. The person also would have to be someone with the incentive to use the drug, ruling out most humans. Humans were usually fine with their heritage. They weren't as highly valued as sorcerers, but certainly not shunned as powerless sorcerers were. They were content with their jobs outside the palace and law enforcement, whereas powerless sorcerers made up over seventy percent of the impoverished population in Orbis.

She turned to the next page to see to autopsy report again.

"Is that it?" she murmured, flipping through the file again. Four pages, in a murder casefile. Kessara turned back to the first page of the file, which outlined the logistics of the case. She flinched at seeing her mother's name again, but hers wasn't the name she was looking for. She scanned the document, looking for the heading 'chief investigator'. It was at the very top, right under her mother's name.

"Marshal Schumacher. I'm going to have a word with you."

***********************

Kessara slammed the case file down on Schumacher's desk. He near jumped out of his skin at the sound.

"Explain this to me."

He wrung his fingers, his pudgy face growing red.

"May I ask, Commander, what must be explained?"

Kessara put her hands on his desk and leaned into his face; so close she could see the sweat beading on his hairline.

"You were the lead investigator of a murder case, and you only managed to find two fingerprints and some histrionis? Four pages in a murder casefile? Is this a joke?"

He removed his suit coat, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

"Well, Commander, we were quite swamped at the time and..."

He continued making excuses for is shortcomings, but Kessara wasn't listening. She was staring at a thick white scar on his forearm.

She glanced around the room, noticing the amount of filing cabinets scattered throughout.

"...there just wasn't enough manpower and time-"

"What's your power, Marshal?" Kessara interjected.

"My-my power?" he asked. The sweat was getting a bit excessive now.

"Did I stutter?"

"No, Commander. I'm a...telekinetic."

Kessara nearly snorted. "Prove it. Move that planter-" she pointed to a flower pot that was sitting on top of a filing cabinet, "-right here." She patted the desk space right in front of her.

All the blood drained from his face. "Um..."

That was all she needed to confirm her theory.

"Or actually, why don't you teleport your stash of histrionis here instead?"

Schumacher sucked in a breath, eyes widening in fear. She got him. Kessara stood up from the desk and paced lazily around his office. His beady eyes watched her every movement.

"No wonder such an easy case went unsolved for so many years. Where did you get that scar, Schumacher?" she jerked her chin toward his forearm, and he yanked his sleeve down. She chuckled. "just as I thought. I bet she threatened to expose you. After all, a powerless can't be a Marshal for the queen. She always did crave attention," she mused. "Where do you keep your stash?" she studied his face. He was holding his breath, not uncommon for someone who's trying to hide something. His eyes flicked toward the door like he wanted to make a run for it.

She yanked down a thread of ethereal energy and tied it around the door handle. If he were to touch it, he would be fried.

Kessara started to move around the room, watching every tiny expression on his face. She passed every filing cabinet, waiting to see a change. He continued to hold his breath until

Squeak.

She'd stepped on a squeaky floorboard, and behind her she heard Schumacher's exhale.

"Good hiding place," Kessara said, bending down. She pried it up with her fingers and was greeted by a small bag of glowing green powder. "But not good enough"


	11. Chapter 11

"You genuinely thought you could move up the ranks as a powerless, using histrionis to fake your powers?" Kessara asked. "So, when Amaris threatened to expose you, you killed her." She shook her head. "And you though you could convince me that it was the work of the Shadow? You're dumber than you look."

Schumacher was gripping the arms of his chair with white knuckles, face beet-red.

"You do know the penance for this crime, Schumacher?" Kessara said softly.

His eyes widened. "No, no Commander please! Have mercy!" he leapt to his feet, bolting around his desk and dropping to his knees before her.

Kessara ignored him and unwound the thread of energy she'd put around the door handle.

"Commander, have mercy!" he pulled at her clothes, but she silently grabbed him by the arm, yanking him to his feet. Kessara dragged him to the door and threw it open.

All the bustling around in the main office stopped dead; the Sergeants and Deputies halting in their tracks and staring as she dragged their Marshal out of his office by the arm. Some of them were mid bite of a tart, others still holding the papers they were filing. All of them with shocked and confused expressions. The only sound came from shuffling papers, Schumacher's pathetic whimpering and the click-click-click of her boots on the marble floor.

"Sergeants and Deputies of Givedra!" she shouted, "I have solved your only cold case!"

She threw Schumacher to the ground before her and he went sprawling.

"The murder of Amaris Blackrose was committed by your very own Marshal Schumacher. He had been using histrionis to disguise the fact that he's a powerless, and killed Amaris when she threatened to tell. He covered it up by declaring the case unsolved."

She tossed the back histrionis on the floor for all the Deputies and Sergeants to see, and shocked whispers echoed throughout the crowd. She caught certain phrases, the word 'Blackrose' the most. They'd put it together.

"Yes. My own mother."

Schumacher was sitting on the ground, whimpering like a dog. Kessara reached down and grabbed him by the throat, hoisting him to his knees before her. She dug her fingernails into his neck.

"Bennet Schumacher, former Marshal of Givedra. You are hereby convicted of the murder of Amaris Blackrose, and are sentenced to die at the Gallows."

The entire station seemed to suck in a breath; dead silence aside from Schumacher's quiet blubbering. Kessara squeezed his throat once more before tossing him back to the ground.

As she looked around the room the Deputies and Marshals stepped back, shrinking away from her stare.

"You and you, you're to take him to the Caelum City by tomorrow's sundown. Bring him to the guards before the castle gates. Tell them Commander Blackrose sent him to die for the murder of Amaris Blackrose."

Kessara pointed to two burly-looking men wearing Sergeant uniforms. They stared at her.

"What are you waiting for?" she barked.

"Yes Commander, apologies Commander," they stuttered. They each grabbed one of Schumacher's arms and dragged him to his feet. He looked at her with pleading eyes.

"Commander, please! Have mercy. Mercy, Commander!" he begged as the Sergeants pulled him down the blue carpet and out the door, kicking and squirming the whole way. She just glared back. Mercy didn't come to murderers.

Silence washed over the department again. Kessara's chest heaved. She'd finally found out what happened to her mother, but strangely, she still felt nothing. Just a sense of closure, the door to her past finally shutting for good. She was never sad that her mother had disappeared, just confused. Now, she knew exactly what happened, and put a criminal to death as a result.

"Um, excuse me, Commander?"

Kessara whirled around to face a young Sergeant. She was on the shorter side with sleek black hair cut just below her shoulders and dark almond eyes. She couldn't have been older than Kessara herself.

"What is it, Sergeant?"

The young woman didn't even blink. "With all due respect, you have just sent our Marshal to die. We need a new leader."

Oh right. She needed to appoint a new Marshal to run the Givedra stationhouse to take Schumacher's place. Kessara turned back to the girl. She was impressed by her bravery, speaking to a Commander so candidly.

She took a step toward the Sergeant, watching her carefully. She didn't budge, looking Kessara in the eye like an equal. All her coworkers took another step back around her, however.

"What's your name, Sergeant?" she asked.

"Sergeant Kenna Woodhunter, Commander. I'm a mutatiokinetic."

Kessara inclined her chin. "Shapeshifter. Not many of you around here," she mused.

Sergeant Woodhunter nodded. "No there are not."

Kessara stopped right in front of her. "Show me. Change your hair colour from black to green." She'd learned her lesson from Schumacher.

"Of course, Commander."

Sergeant Woodhunter closed her eyes and turned her palms to the ceiling, and within a second her hair changed from black to green, starting from the roots and sliding down to the tips as if someone poured green paint over her head. She even turned her eyebrows green, and when she reopened her eyes, her black eyes had turned green as well. Kessara couldn't help but smile at her boldness.

"I like you." She turned to the rest of the Sergeants and Deputies who were watching their exchange with wide eyes. "You all need a new Marshal? Kenna Woodhunter is your new Marshal. Treat her with respect, do not disobey her." Kessara looked back to the new Marshal, who was obviously trying to hold back a grin. "Marshal Woodhunter, your first order of business is to downsize that office. Second, give all of these men their own cubicles."

Marshal Woodhunter stood up in a salute. "Yes Commander!" She instantly turned to her men. "Deputy Staglance! Call the carpenters to come take down this ridiculous office. The rest of you! Get back to work."

***********************

Moonbeam whinnied when he saw her walking up toward the stables.

"I know I'm coming!" she cooed back, quickening her pace.

Kessara stopped in the storage area, much to her horse's disdain, to get her saddle and bridle. She waddled up to his stall and hoisted the heavy saddle onto the top of the door. He was going wild in his stall, spinning and snorting and swishing his tail.

"I know you're excited to see me bud, but you have to stand still so I can tack you up."

She unlatched the stall door and he went to work sniffling and nuzzling her. She had to dodge his big head in order to prevent him from accidentally breaking her nose in his desperation for cuddles. Kessara grabbed the saddle and threw it over his back, tightening the girth and checking that all the saddle bags were securely tied. She slipped the bridle over his ears, fighting to get the bit in his mouth as he refused to open his teeth, like always.

"I swear to the Goddess, Moonbeam..."

Finally, Kessara managed to get him completely tacked up. She tied his reins to a post in his stall, and marched up the hill toward the tavern.

She was assaulted by the gross, damp smell again, as well as the sight of the greasy old owner.

"Why hello again, l'il-,"

He halted when she shot him her best death glare.

"Apologies, Commander."

Her nostrils flared. "That better."

She strode down the rotting hallway toward her room. Jamming the key into the rusty lock, she jiggled it to get it to open. Looking around her disgusting room, she was glad she'd decided not to stay the night. Considering the nasty grime and smell in the place, Kessara doubted highly that bed had been cleaned. Ever. It was probably cleaner to sleep on the ground in the wilderness. Besides, she couldn't stay another minute in this hellhole of a town. Not when everywhere she'd looked after leaving the stationhouse, she saw herself as a child, begging for food and waiting for her mother to return. Not when she could imagine Schumacher beating her to death in one of the many old barns. She couldn't wait to get out of here.

Kessara quickly grabbed her mother's casefile and jammed it into one of her bags, almost enjoying hearing the paper crumpling as it went in, snatched up her bags, and made a beeline for the door before she vomited from the vile smell.


	12. Chapter 12

Kessara hated travelling at night. Yes, the blanket of stars was beautiful, and the moons provided some light, but she hated the way the shadows moved. She hated the tiny glimmer of Will o' The Wisps in the distance, marking the border of Wild Country. Out here, she needed eyes in the back of her head. Headless horsemen, banshees, and black-dogs roamed the plains, along with many other creatures, each more terrifying than the last.

Kessara couldn't relax, and it didn't help that Moonbeam kept spooking at every stump or rock on the path. A few times she nearly lost her balance, which would've been a disaster. She couldn't afford injuries, even just cuts and scrapes. Without a healer nearby, the infection could kill her before she could make it to the next town. Each one of Moonbeam's hoofbeats made her jump, thinking they belonged to headless horseman, not her own palace pony.

Judging by the position of Xiutera, the closest moon, dawn was still about three hours away. She sighed heavily, trying to calm her jitters.

She'd been riding as much as she could for the past four days, only sleeping when she felt like she needed it. Which so far, had only been twice. Kessara knew she probably was slowly killing herself by doing this, but she just wanted to get to Cantastile as fast as she could. She needed sleep in a clean bed. She skipped sleeping in a bed back in Givedra, and after that disgusting mess, she wasn't exactly eager to end up in another small town.

Kessara had been to Cantasile before, back when she'd made this same journey to investigate the Olania murders. It was a larger city, not nearly the size of the Caelum City, but it was certainly larger than Givedra. It was widely known as one of the most beautiful cities in all of Cygnis, as every building was entirely made out of blue crystal. One could see Cantasile from kilometers away, as the moonlight and sunlight reflected and refracted off the crystal in a blinding array of colour. In fact, just in before the soft glow of the Will o' The Wisps, Kessara could see a bright colourful light coming from just over the hilltop.

Must be Cantasile, she thought, and urged Moonbeam into a trot. She felt guilty; she had been working him almost non stop for the past five days. But she was so close to a nice warm bed... she shivered at the thought, suddenly very aware of the crisp night air. But he obliged, probably dreaming about some crispy hay and a cozy stall. Kessara was ready to stop looking over her shoulder like a madwoman, jumping at every shadow like a black-dog was going to leap out at her. The exhaustion was probably getting to her, making her paranoid. She was the most powerful sorceress in the world, she could handle herself.

Kessara made it to the top of the hill, and looked down on the beautiful city of Cantasile. It shone in the moonlight, sending beautiful streams of coloured light in every direction. The blue crystal was striking, and the city stretched on for kilometers. Towers of swirling crystal stood scattered throughout the smooth cobblestone streets. It really was breathtaking. Considering the fact that it was about three in the morning, the streets were silent as the dead.

Kessara cringed. She hated that analogy.

Soon she'd arrived at the entrance to the crystal city. It was less blinding inside the city, courtesy of a lumenokinetic, a light bender. She scanned the tell-tale white banners, looking for a hotel of some sort, and she came across a crystal tower in the center of the city. The sign read The Wisp Inn. Kessara resisted to urge to cringe again. She despised those wretched little things. Nevertheless, the place looked luxurious. Kessara hoped the crystal wasn't deceiving her as she dismounted Moonbeam and dragged him around the horse path to the back of the building. Behind the inn stood a beautiful mahogany stable with about ten times as many stalls as the tavern back in Givedra. It was also empty, so she didn't need to worry about her skittish horse's reaction to a moody mare.

"Okay, Moonbeam. Time for bed," Kessara said through a yawn. She lead him into the closest stall, peeled off his sweaty saddle and armor, and placed it on the steel hook next to the wooden door. She tossed him a flake of hay to distract him while she untied her bags from his back. After giving him a quick kiss on his nose, Kessara lugged her bags back up toward the crystal tower.

First thing she noticed was the smell. Rather the fact that it didn't smell. It was certainly refreshing. The inside walls were lined with the same mahogany wood characteristic of the Caelum City, but it wasn't rotting. The roof wasn't leaking moisture, and the whole place seemed...clean. The ground was the same white marble she was so familiar with, scrubbed spotless so that it gleamed. A blue carpet stretched from the doorway to the large lobby desk in the center of the room. To her left was a sitting area, decorated with pristine white couches and a wooden coffee table. To her right was a large winding staircase with silver railings. Right in the center of the room was the lobby desk, the white marble glinting in the moonlight that shone through the tall windows that framed the door. Standing behind the desk was a young man wearing a cobalt blue work uniform. As Kessara lugged her bags up to the desk, she saw that his nametag read "Aspen".

"Single room, Aspen." She slammed some Aurum on the counter, and he wordlessly handed her the key.

"Would you like someone to take your bags, Commander?" he asked politely, gesturing to another young man who had just come out of the back-room doors.

Kessara pleasantly agreed, and turned to give her bags to the bell-boy. But they clattered to the ground when she saw his face.

Standing before her in the same blue uniform stood Warren, the graveyard kid.

"Hello, Commander. May I take your bags?

***************

The queen was both beautiful and terrifying. Her face was lovely, skin dark and smooth, with ice-white hair and striking amber eyes. Her expression was kind, soothing, but when he concentrated through the haze, her face changed. Her teeth were pointed and jagged like a shark's, her hair turned to hissing white cobras, and her eyes turned to slits, like a cat's. She wore a shimmering silver gossamer encrusted with diamonds, and a matching platinum tiara.

Most faeries were like this. They disguised their appearances to mortals when they happened to stumble upon their lands, to entice them to stay, to dance forever or to be slaves to the queen.

He was no idiot. It was difficult to continue concentrating, to see her true face, but he didn't dare stop. He wasn't going to trade one prison for another.

"Ah, you are awake, General." Her voice was smooth, like butter, but when he strained his ears, it changed into a low growl. She certainly watched him like a panther, ready to strike.

He hissed. "Don't call me that."

Queen Onagh's expression didn't change. "What do you want me to call you?"

"Not that."

He was lying on his stomach on a bed of flowers and vines. He was shirtless, with tiny sprites buzzing around his back. He'd only woken up a few minutes earlier, and his head was still groggy, which was why he was having to focus more to see Onagh's true face. His back burned like the sun, a pain all too familiar to him. But this time, he felt different. Worse, somehow. His arms and legs felt weaker, like he almost couldn't lift them. When a sprite landed on a relatively unmarred part of his back, he cringed away. It burned, almost the same as the gashes.

_Infection. _He needed a healer.__

____

"Yes, you have noticed your, predicament."

____

Despite his weakness, he found the energy to snarl at her. Her expression remained unchanged. "What are you doing to me?"

____

"Fixing it, temporarily."

____

His heart stopped. "What do you mean, temporarily?"

____

A small, menacing smile was the only emotion she'd shown so far.

____

"I wish to speak to Kessara Blackrose. You are to bring her to me. If you are successful, we shall heal you completely and you will live freely. If you do not succeed within the span of two months," she smiled a shark toothed smile, "the infection will kill you."

____

His heart sank. Another mission. He must've traded prisons after all. But instead of lashings, he'd gain his freedom. He almost shivered at the thought.

____

"Swear it. Swear by the Goddess."

____

He knew better than to trust the faeries.

____

The queen lifted her hand, sharp talons sprouting from her fingertips, and carved an 'x' into the skin above her heart.

____

"I swear by the Great Goddess that I will grant you life and liberty upon your return with Kessara Blackrose."

____

He resisted the urge to smile.

____

_Freedom ___

____


	13. Chapter 13

Kessara slammed her hotel room door shut, throwing Warren up against it and pinning him by the neck with her arm. In her other hand she held a glowing blue dagger, made out of ethereal energy she'd quickly yanked down from the sky.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" she barked at him, pressing the blade of her dagger against his throat. She was nose to nose with him, lip curled in a snarl. A thousand questions were running through her head. Was he really some poor kid from Caelum City shantytown? Why did he follow her? Why did he show himself now?

His expression didn't change, although he winced slightly at the heat of her blade. It just made Kessara angrier. She peeled him off the wall and slammed him into it again, returning her glowing knife to his neck. He gasped as she knocked the wind out of him. Thankfully, the crystal walls made the room mostly soundproof.

"I'm going to ask you one more time; who are you, and why are you here?" she maliciously articulated each word, making sure he understood she meant business.

"My name is Warren Brightstride and I live in Caelum City shantytown," he stammered.

Kessara dug the blade harder into his neck, and he yelped.

"I'm eighteen years old, and I'm a thief."

"Why," she growled, "are you here?"

He threw his hands up in an 'I surrender' gesture, but Kessara didn't care.

"I had a vision. It was about you."

"What kind of vision? Psychic? Oracle?" she demanded.

"Psychic, Commander. I'm a Psychic."

She hesitated. A psychic vision, about her? But she shook herself enough to remember,

"Psychic visions happen all the time and they're almost always wrong. You aren't an Oracle. Why are you really here?"

He shook his head as much as he could with the knife still at his jugular. "No, Commander you don't understand. I haven't had a vision in three years. The last one came true."

He looked at her with dark, pleading eyes.

"Please, Commander, just drop the knife. You will want to know about this one."

Kessara swallowed, hard. He sounded adamant that his vision was true, and she supposed any intel she could gather would be of use to her. So, she opened her hand and let the glowing blue energy dissipate back up into Etherea.

Warren nearly collapsed when she let him go, hands flying to his neck. There was an angry red mark where her hot blade touched his skin. Kessara grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to his feet.

"What did you see?" she asked.

He heaved a breath. "It was just flashing images, it was hard to make sense of, but I figured someone of your stature-"

"What," she cut him off, "did you see?"

Warren took a deep breath, and his expression changed from flustered to fear. But not of her, of something else.

"First, I saw red. So much red. It was like thick, red smoke, and in the background, I heard this sort of, inhuman growling. But it sounded like a laugh, like this deep, chittering noise. It reminded me of..." he trailed off.

"Of demons," Kessara finished, heart sinking. He nodded silently. She waved her hand in a 'go on' gesture, and he continued.

"Then it flashed to a man."

Kessara knit her brows. "A man?"

"Yeah. He had dark hair. Really dark, like a raven. And eyes were so bright blue, they looked like they glowed."

Kessara flashed her eyes, the way they glow when she channeled Ethereal energy. "Like that?"

He nodded. "Yes, but dimmer. He also had a huge scar that ran from his hairline, through his left eye down to his jaw."

Kessara flinched, imagining what it must have felt like to get a cut that big, especially through the eye. Warren went on.

"He wore this...loose white shirt? But it was fancy, like the shirts all the rich people wear under their...?"

Warren shot her an exasperated look, and she resisted the urge to chuckle.

"A dress shirt, like the shirt the nobles wear under their blazers?"

He snapped his fingers. "That's the one!"

Kessara bit back a smile, and nodded for him to continue.

"Okay, so yeah, he was wearing this white dress shirt, and he was standing completely still, facing me. But then he opened his mouth, like he was screaming, but no sound came out. And then he turned around, and..."

Kessara caught the way his throat bobbed.

"...and his back was a mess of blood. His shirt was stained with it, and it dripped down his back and onto the ground." Warren shuddered, but Kessara wanted to know more.

"Did you get a name or anything? Do you know who this man is?"

He shook his head. "No, visions don't work like that. Mediums get names, I get pictures."

Kessara cursed under her breath.

"Anyways, then the picture changed to a woman. But she wasn't a woman, at least I don't think so. She had this really rich, dark skin and amber eyes, but her eyes were slits like a cat's eyes, and instead of hair, she had these white snakes that twisted and hissed around her head. And she was smiling at someone I couldn't see. But her teeth were jagged like a shark's teeth. And her smile looked...it looked bloodthirsty."

Kessara frowned. Who could that be? She'd never heard of a woman with snakes for hair and shark teeth. And why was Warren seeing her?

"You also said you saw me?" she asked.

He wouldn't meet her eyes. Kessara's heartrate quickened.

"Warren?" she asked again, more forcefully. He swallowed again. He did that when he was nervous about something, she'd noticed.

"Yes, I did see you. I saw you with a rope around your neck."

Kessara recoiled, feeling all the blood draining from her face. _No... ___

__"You were clawing at the knot, but, but you couldn't get it undone. And then I could feel it myself. I couldn't breathe. I felt the rope burning my neck-"_ _

__Kessara held up a shaking hand. "That's _enough _."___ _

____She couldn't get enough air into her lungs, already feeling like a rope was squeezing her windpipe. She had stood in the Gallows herself; she'd stood under the gnarled, broken branches of the Hanging Tree. She'd watched those nooses sway from the branches and promised herself that she would never return. She swore that she'd never add to the collection of ropes hanging from the tree, and now? Now a psychic has told her that her promises had meant nothing. That she would end up there anyways._ _ _ _

____Kessara sat staggered backward a step. Her hands flew to her throat, trying to claw away the imaginary rope._ _ _ _

____"Commander, this doesn't mean that it will actually happen. Like you said, Psychic visions are hardly reliable." Warren looked at her with pity in his dark eyes, but she knew that he wouldn't follow her for days on end to tell her if he didn't believe it to be true._ _ _ _

____"It doesn't matter anyway. If I'm going to stay away from the Gallows, I need to find the Shadow. Sooner, rather than later."_ _ _ _

____He stayed silent. But right as Kessara was about to dismiss him, she felt like a bucket of ice water was dumped on her head. _Savannah _. The demons at the beginning of Warren's vision, were they coming for her, just like Savannah had predicted? Was she in danger? Yes, she'd trained Savannah in basic combat, but it was only a few times, and basic fighting wouldn't do much against Avalon's demon army. Kessara knew that, first hand. She knew exactly what it was like to fight something so bloodthirsty.___ _ _ _

______She grabbed Warren by the collar. "Listen to me carefully. You are going to return to the Cobalt Castle right now. You are going to send a message to Commander Alaric Pyroak and tell him that Princess Savannah's life is in danger. You will talk to no one else until you do so. Don't trust anyone. Tell him that she is a target for Avalon, and that he needs to keep an eye on her. You are going to help him. If _anything _happens, you send me a signal. Got that? _Anything _."_____ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Yes, Commander."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She let him go, and he stepped backward, fixing his shirt where she'd grabbed him. Much to her discomfort, that strange feeling in her stomach, the one she got when she first saw the rags hanging off his bony frame in that graveyard back home, returned. He still wore the same rags, his white-blond hair dull and matted, eyes defeated despite his silly personality._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Thank you for your help," she said awkwardly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He didn't bow. Surprisingly, she respected that. Usually, she would kick a person to the curb if they showed her disrespect. But with Warren, she almost admired his defiance._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"You're welcome, Commander."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He turned on his heel and made to leave. But Kessara found herself saying, "Wait!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He spun back around; dark eyes narrowed in confusion._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Kessara reached into her uniform jacket and pulled out a small, burlap bag. She opened it up to reveal a few hundred small, gold coins: Aurum. Each coin was worth ten Aurum._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Hold out your hand," she told him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________His eyes widened. "Commander, you can't-"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Just do it, kid, before I change my mind."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Warren held out his hand, and Kessara dumped about a third of the bag into it. He had to grab some with his other hand, as the gold coins started to spill over._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Kessara smiled at him. "Maybe that'll keep you from thieving. At least for a little while."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He stared at the coins, gaping at the shining pile, before looking at her with disbelief._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Thank you, thank you so much, I don't even know what to say."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Think of it as payment for your services to the queen's Commander," she replied. "Now go."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but he closed it again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"You know, I'm only a year younger than you. I'm not a kid."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Kessara smirked. "You're definitely still a kid."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________********************_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Savannah felt like something was wrong in the Castle. She'd felt it for weeks, even before Kessara left. But when she did, the feeling got even worse._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Savannah was an Empath, able to read and understand people's emotions. But it translated into excellent intuition, and right now, she didn't trust anybody. Not even her mother. She'd been hiding out in her chambers for days, only coming out to eat with the other five Commanders. She felt the safest with them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Savannah was sitting on the edge of her bathtub in her bathroom, wearing sweatpants and a black tank top. It was the only place that had no windows, and where she felt like she was truly alone. She'd covered all the mirrors in her chambers with black sheets to protect herself, and installed reinforced locks herself onto every door after reading a book on it from the library. Savannah had even rummaged through the weapons room, strategically placing daggers and spears throughout her chambers. She'd started wearing short dresses, much to her mother's disliking, and flat shoes, just in case she needed to run for her life._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She didn't know what was making her so on edge, which was the drawback of Empathy and intuition. She knew what she felt, she didn't know why she felt it. But she knew there was something very wrong. Savannah felt like she was being watched all the time, that the walls had eyes and ears. She was jumping and sudden movements, looking over her shoulder constantly. What she was looking for, she had no idea. But she knew one thing: she needed more training._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Kessara had trained her only a few times before she was sent off to find the Shadow, but Savannah needed more. She needed to be able to protect herself from whatever was lurking within the deceitful marble walls of the Cobalt Castle._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________So, she pulled open the top drawer of her vanity and grabbed the short dagger that she'd stashed in it. She unlocked the bathroom door and glanced around her bedroom before slowly creeping out and out into the hall. Thankfully, the Commander Wing was next door to the Royal Wing, so she didn't have to walk, or rather briskly jog, too long. Still, she hated how exposed she felt in the hallways of her own home._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Sanlyn, Everette, Pitwood, Dusktaker..." she muttered as she passed by each door. "Ah, Pyroak!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She knocked on his door, silently praying to the Great Goddess that he would answer. Every second that she didn't made her more and more nervous. She glanced over her shoulder, but she saw nothing. She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the lock clicking. Much to her relief, Commander Pyroak opened the door. He was wearing his casual Commander uniform; black cargo pants, a fitted black t-shirt and lace-up black leather boots with his silver pin over his heart. No doubt about to teach a class. His hazel eyes widened in surprise before he dropped into a bow. "Crown Princess-"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She cut him off._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Commander, I need your help."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	14. Chapter 14

It was already four-o-clock in the morning when Warren left. Kessara figured she wouldn't be able to sleep after such an ordeal, but as soon as her head hit the pillow, she passed out.

The past few days had been so mentally draining, and that combined with the fact that she hadn't slept more than a few hours every few days? Not to mention her use of her powers to make shields and knives; it was no wonder really she could barely stay standing. Kessara didn't even bother to change out of her uniform, or even go under the covers. She just collapsed onto the bed and went to sleep.

_Kessara drove a glowing blue dagger into the heart of another demon, black blood burning her skin as it splattered from the wound. The demon; a humanoid red-skinned beast with fur and horns, collapsed before her, and she leapt over its body to face three more. The one to the left was just a cloud of black smoke with red-glowing eyes, the right one was a giant red wolf with black eyes and the one in the middle looked human in every way except for the claws and shark teeth._

_She called down a cloud of ethereal energy and hurled it toward the smoke-demon. It screeched a blood curdling scream before dissipating into nothing. The wolf leapt at her but Kessara was faster. She threw her golden-hilted dagger, and it embedded itself into its side. At the same time, the humanoid demon charged at her. Kessara recoiled as she saw that its legs bent the wrong way. She drew her sword and ducked around the demon's punches, and slammed the sword hilt-deep into its spine, so hard that the tip of the sword buried itself into the dirt in front of the demon. She snatched her gold knife out of the body of the wolf-demon and left to meet the next wave of demons._

_The battle raged on around her, Soldiers in cobalt blue uniforms stabbing demons left and right, but there were too many of them. Captains, Generals and her fellow Commanders screamed orders over the chaos, but they were losing. Kessara threw a glowing dagger at a horned demon that was charging toward her and it went straight through its chest, along with three other demons behind it, burning fist-sized holes through each of them. But it wasn't enough. Because for every demon she fell, ten more would take its place._

_Kessara sliced the head off another demon, wiping black blood off her cheek. Her uniform was in tatters, and her skin was covered in tiny burns and cuts. She had a large gash on her scalp, and the blood poured down her face, blurring her eyesight. Kessara already felt the concussion, a dull throbbing in her head. The world tilted, but she closed her eyes and shook herself. She opened them just in time to see a ten-foot tall bear with red fur and black eyes charging toward her. She dove to the side, tripping over the body of a Cygnis soldier; face twisted in a silent scream. He couldn't have been older than fourteen, but had his throat slit wide open, lying in a puddle of his own blood. Kessara's chest tightened, but she couldn't mourn for the boy. The bear was just meters away, so Kessara threw a glowing blue shield at it, trapping it in a sphere of energy. It let out an ear-splitting roar before exploding into a cloud of red smoke. Beside her, three other Cygnis soldiers fought demons of their own. A pack five of wolf-demons came out of nowhere, and Kessara had no choice but to engage in combat. Just as she drove her golden dagger into the last one, the horned demon that the soldier to her left was fighting punched its fist through his gut. Its forearm was stained in the soldier's blood as it emerged through his back. Kessara screamed, and the demon wrenched its arm back out of the soldier's body, holding his still-beating heart. Kessara's stomach roiled, and she leaned over, vomiting her guts up._

__Kessara awoke in a cold sweat. She sat up straight, chest heaving, still in her Commander uniform, still in her bed in Cantasile._ _

__She swallowed hard. "You're safe," she whispered in between heaving breaths. "You're safe."_ _

__Kessara looked around the room and counted the number of windows, over and over again to calm her racing heart. "one, two, three. One, two, three..." After about six counts, her heart calmed to a healthier rate but her hands still shook, the image of that demon holding that soldier's heart burned into her eyelids._ _

__She had that dream quite often. Fighting on the front lines of the battle between Arisia and Cygnis was the hardest thing she's ever had to do. Kessara was seventeen when she spent a year on the battlefield. She witnessed horrors far worse than those in her dreams, but for some reason, she always saw that demon rip the heart out of one of her men._ _

__Kessara took another couple deep breaths before throwing off the covers and getting out of bed._ _

__She looked in her bathroom mirror and,_ _

__"Oh, Great Goddess."_ _

__Her chocolatey hair was a rat's nest on top of her head, baby hairs along her hairline flying out in all directions, and huge knots and tangles causing her hair to clump together. She had huge, dark circles under her evergreen eyes, accentuated by her smeared mascara and clammy skin. Kessara hadn't seen herself for days and she could only describe herself as sickly. She turned her chin to the side, running her still-shaking fingers along her bony jaw. She'd lost weight, no doubt from eating so little in the past few days. Kessara cringed. She really needed to eat some actual food._ _

__Kessara changed out of her wrinkled uniform and into her casual uniform: black cargo pants, fitted black t-shirt, black leather boots and her cobalt blue cape pinned over her left shoulder with her silver Commander pin. Pinning that cape over her heart helped calm her jitters. It slammed her back into her body, grounded her to the now and present. She wasn't at war right now, she was on a mission._ _

__Then, she set to work on her hair._ _

__Ten minutes of brushing later, she was using techniques that Gwyneth would've had a heart attack over. She wrenched the comb through the mattes, wincing as the teeth ripped chunks of hair out of her head. After a few more minutes and a lot more pain, Kessara had managed to tame her hair into a high ponytail, her long brown waves slightly less matted and tumbling down her back._ _

__Kessara snatched up her weapons belt, stocking it up with all her weapons: her sword, favourite gold-hilted dagger, and a few hunting knives, and clipped it onto her waist, along with her thigh holster._ _

__She glanced back in the mirror. Much better._ _

__Kessara didn't want to stay in town too long. On her way out, she stopped at the station house and asked the marshal if there were any strange unsolved murders, but his filing cabinet was empty. His stationhouse was certainly more organized than that of Givedra, so she felt like her services were unnecessary and left. Kessara also stopped at a restaurant in the center of town with a line that stretched around the street corner. It was called The Nifty Rose, and the delicious aroma of fresh-baked pastries wafting out the open windows had caught Kessara's attention immediately. The shopkeepers recognized her as a Commander for the queen, and she got to skip the line. She ended up buying a chocolate croissant and a toasted bagel with whipped cream cheese. When she took a bite out of the croissant, she knew exactly why the line was so long. Kessara could feel the energy in her body recharge, and hoped that eating actual food would help get rid of her sunken cheeks and dark circles._ _

__Kessara decided to take her food to go, and a few hours later she was back on the dirt road, riding toward one of the most dangerous parts of her journey; Wild Country._ _

__It was the height of noon, yet Kessara still felt her chest tighten with each step Moonbeam took toward the border. Wild Country was named appropriately, considering the beings that lurked throughout. It was a densely wooded area with thick spruce trees scraping the sky and tall ferns covering the ground. Luminescent moss covered the bark, causing the woods to glow in a sort of radioactive green light. It was the home of monsters; mobs of vampires, black dogs, Will o' the Wisps, banshees, and more prowled the trees, looking for prey to sink their teeth in. In fact, the journey through was so treacherous that there were certain rules to follow in order to survive it. Glaistigs; goat-women, and black dogs tempt travellers to go off their path, leaving them completely lost and at the mercy of whatever dwells in the trees. Will o' the Wisps do the same, but they have been known to lead travellers straight off cliffs or into the dens of vampires. Black dogs were usually neutral creatures, but can be used to the advantage of travellers. It is said that if one comes across a black dog and can resist the pull to follow it, they can give it a gold coin. If the dog accepts, it will lead them to wherever they need to go. If the dog refuses, the person will die within a few weeks. It was a fifty-fifty chance either way._ _

__Kessara and Moonbeam were only a few minutes away from the border, and she was not excited to get there. The last time she came through Wild Country, she was with those two generals. She needed to tie one of them down with a thread of ethereal energy to keep him from following a Glaistig off the path and into the woods. Kessara and the other general resisted the pull, but the encounter had her hackles raised throughout the rest of the trip. When travelling through Wild Country, one must never look behind them. If they do, whatever is following them will attack and kill them; there is always something following you in Wild Country. One must never light a fire, not even a match, for the things lurking in the darkness will find them. Travellers must never touch or go near a lost horse, as the kelpies that wander the woods will drag them into the water, never to resurface._ _

__Kessara felt goosebumps pop up on her arms just thinking about it._ _

__Finally, she made it to the border, the trees looking extra tall as she neared._ _

__"Ready, Moonbeam?" she asked. He snorted in response. "I'm going to take that as a 'yes'."_ _

__Kessara took a deep breath, and crossed the border into the trees._ _


	15. Chapter 15

Every single hair on Kessara's body stood straight up. Her eyes rapidly scanned the trees, catching every slight rustle of the leaves. She couldn't afford to relax, not here. She had to assume every rustle was a monster, for if she let her guard down, even for a moment, it could mean her death.

Kessara had a love-hate relationship with forests. On the one hand, they provided excellent cover. There was always somewhere to hide, a tree to duck behind, to climb. But on the other hand, it was next to impossible to be stealthy. Snapping branches, rustling through bushes. The grating sound of leaves against leaves made Kessara want to scream, until she'd realized screaming would've been worse. Not to mention, only the Goddess knew what could already be waiting in your hiding spot.

Kessara doubted stealth would make much of a difference here though. As soon as she'd crossed the border, every thing in Wild Country would've sensed her presence. An outsider. Fresh meat.

Not that she'd even be able to be secretive, not with her horse snorting and jumping around like a maniac. He kept stepping on broken branches, and the crunch-crunch-crunch of his hooves on the gravel path did not make for silent travel. She'd had to verbally tell him to quiet down, which was counter-intuitive, but she didn't know what else to do.

At least Kessara didn't need to call energy down from Etherea for light, the luminescent moss that covered the spruce trees made it unnecessary. However, it made the shadows of the leaves and bushes dance like monsters. It made her skin crawl. She absolutely despised this place.

These woods were incredibly loud. Rustling leaves were a constant, but screeching howls in the distance, small furry things darting in and out of trees, and the sound of footsteps that always seemed to be just behind her, just added to the eeriness. Kessara knew better than to turn around. Of course, there was something behind her, she didn't need to look to know that. She dug her heel into Moonbeam's left side as he tried to spin, forcing him to keep his nose pointed forward. She didn't know if horses counted in the 'keep eyes forward' rule, but she sure as hell wasn't taking that chance.

Kessara knew that the journey through was only two days, yet if she were to go around the territory, she would've added an extra twelve days; time she didn't have. At this point, she'd been travelling for exactly four hours. Kessara sighed. Only forty-four more hours to go.

When the glaring sunset managed to cut through the trees, Kessara quickly jumped off her horse to turn in for the night. In Wild Country, one must sleep when it's dark and wake when it's light, for the true monsters came out when the sun went down.

Moonbeam's eyes were wild, body tense, tail swishing side to side with nervous energy. Kessara lead him over to a tree with a low-hanging branch and tied a quick-release knot with his reins around it, giving him a soothing pat down his neck to try and calm his jitters. It didn't do much. She untied her sleeping bag from his back, rolling it out a safe distance away. After all, she couldn't afford being stepped on by her manic palace pony.

It was absolutely freezing in those woods. Kessara shivered in her sleeping bag, wrapping her arms around herself to preserve heat, eyes squeezed shut. She didn't dare light a fire, though, for the creatures that lurked would find her. It was better to keep her heat signature to a minimum.

Her night was dreamless, thankfully, but not exactly restful. She kept waking up with her teeth chattering, even though she wore layers of clothes. So, when the blinding sunrise turned the inside of her eyelids pink, she was relieved to wake.

Within a minute, Kessara had her sleeping bag rolled up and retied to Moonbeam's saddle. She checked and rechecked his armor before grabbing a piece of dried beef out of a pouch to munch on during her travels.

Kessara calculated how long she'd slept; in late April, sunset to sunrise was about ten hours, so she'd been traveling for fourteen hours so far. Thirty more hours to go.

Moonbeam was still taught as a wire, glancing around at everything that moved. Kessara couldn't blame him; she was doing the same. She slowly adjusted to the sound of leaves rustling, so she tuned her focus to anything out of the ordinary. Howling and cackling and flapping wings, etcetera.

After another few hours of travel, her ears caught a familiar sound, a sound that made her blood run cold in her veins. A deep, chittering noise that sounded like laughter. Kessara's hands tightened on the reins, and Moonbeam halted. Demons.

What were demons doing way out here? How did they cross the channel? Did this mean they'd managed to push the battleground? Her heart pounded in her chest, but she knew she had to follow the sound. It was coming from just up the path, and Kessara urged Moonbeam into a slow, careful walk toward it. Once she estimated that the demons were only about ten meters away, she dismounted and tied him in another quick-release knot. She didn't want him getting too close and getting hurt or running away.

Kessara slowly stalked toward the noise; knees bent, eyes wide, with one hand curled around the familiar gold hilt of her dagger, the other gently pushing branches and bushes aside. Her ears strained, trying to pick out the chittering among the rustling leaves. Blood roared in her ears, and flashbacks to her time on the front lines, watching that demon rip her soldier's heart out of his chest. But she steeled her nerves, and continued, taking each step one at a time, keeping her footfalls as light as possible to minimize the sound of crunching on gravel. Kessara pushed past another branch, and then immediately ducked into a crouch. She'd found the demons.

There were three of them, all different. One of them was humanoid, but with bright red skin black veins and black eyes. The one to left of him looked to be part human part beast, with skin that was completely white and thick paws with claws for hands and feet. It had large wolf ears that protruded from its bald head that twitched and swiveled around as if taking in all the sounds in the woods. The one to the right was shaped like a woman, but its mouth was unnaturally wide and filled with hundreds of needle-sharp teeth. It had large, twisted horns that poked through its stringy black hair. They stood in this small clearing that the path went through, and conversed with each other. Kessara strained her ears to hear what they were saying, but it was no use. They were too far away, and she couldn't get any closer without compromising her position.

_Dammit _, she thought.__

__But just as she was about to jump out and kill them, they moved closer._ _

__Well that was easy._ _

__Much to her confusion, the one with the red skin pulled out a large mirror from the air, much like a telekinetic. It was about the length of Kessara's forearm with an obsidian trim, and the demon leaned the mirror against one of the trees in such a way that the glass was facing her. Suddenly, all the demons began to chant in unison, speaking in a language Kessara had never heard before. She could tell it was ancient, and consisted of mostly vowel-like soft sounds. The demons' voices had the undertone of growling, which only added to the eeriness of the scene. Kessara shivered, but it wasn't from the cold._ _

__The demons continued their chant, and the mirror began to ripple like water in a pond._ _

__Kessara's stomach dropped. She knew exactly what they were doing._ _

___They're opening a portal _.__ _ _

____A dark blob appeared in the glass, and she squinted to make out who it was. But when she did, she had to clamp her hand over her mouth to keep from gasping._ _ _ _

____There, in the mirror, was a young woman. She was deathly pale, with long, raven black hair, tipped with red. The bones in her face jutted out, her cheeks sunken and her lips thin and coated in red lipstick. Her jaw was bony and sharp, much like Kessara's was after not eating for days. Small horns twisted out of her black hair, making her look like a demon. But it was the woman's eyes that made Kessara's stomach roil. They were wholly black, with bright, blood-red irises and no pupils. It was downright terrifying, and Kessara had to grip the handle of her gold knife harder to combat her shaking hands._ _ _ _

____The woman in the mirror was the dark queen herself, Empress Avalon of Arisia._ _ _ _

____Her face was twisted in a manic smile, her eyes wild._ _ _ _

____"Hellooo! What have you got for me, my pets?" she cooed in a singsong voice. Kessara swallowed hard. Avalon sounded as insane as she looked, and it made her skin crawl._ _ _ _

____The demons fidgeted, and the one with the needle teeth hissed an answer._ _ _ _

____"We are hunting the Cygnis Sanctus now, Your Majesty. The General is still off the grid."_ _ _ _

____Avalon's scary smile changed into fury within a second. "So, you have NOTHING?" she screeched. "I need all three to open the gate for your creator, so FIND. MY. SANCTUS!"_ _ _ _

____Kessara's confusion overpowered her fear. What was a 'Sanctus'? Avalon seemed to believe that this General was one, and she needed the to open the gate to release Diabolis? Interesting. Who was the Cygnis Sanctus, then?_ _ _ _

____"Yes, Empress. Apologies, Empress," the demons blubbered, but Avalon's face had changed again, back into her sick smile. But she wasn't looking at the demons._ _ _ _

____To Kessara's absolute horror, Avalon's evil eyes were looking straight at her._ _ _ _

____"Ooooh children! I fear I've done your job for youuuu!" The demons must've given her a look of confusion, because Avalon screamed, "She's right behind you, you morons!"_ _ _ _

____Well, it looked like she was the Cygnis Sanctus._ _ _ _

____Kessara had no choice but to go on the offensive. She leapt out of her hiding spot, eyes glowing, both hands holding daggers of ethereal energy. The demons turned around, claws out, snake tongues hissing between their jagged teeth, and launched themselves at her._ _ _ _

____Kessara had fought demons thousands of times before, but it had been almost three years since she'd been on the forefront of the battle. And she had had healers on call. Now, she couldn't afford even a papercut, for fear of infection. Especially not in Cygnis Wild Country. Just her luck that she'd come across demons._ _ _ _

____The bald one with paws got to her first, slicing at her with razor-sharp talons. She easily sidestepped, and flipped her dagger around in her hand and stabbing backward, driving the blade into its spine. It screamed before dissipating into black goo. The acidic black blood that spurted burned tiny holes into the sleeves of her coat, she couldn't think about that now. The other demons were coming for her. The one with red skin somehow summoned some sort of battle axe, and was swinging at her wildly. It sliced an arc right at chest height, but Kessara dropped to her knees and skidded in the dirt and between its legs, popping up behind it and stabbing through its back and heart. It went the same as the other demon, screaming and melting. The one with the needle teeth made her skin crawl as it crawled toward her, teeth snapping like a rabid dog as its forked tongue flicked between its teeth. Kessara changed her ethereal dagger, shaping and morphing it into a long whip. She cracked it across its neck, and its head fell clean off its shoulders before it could get within reaching distance._ _ _ _

____It was over just as quickly as it began, and Kessara heaved a huge breath before letting the energy dissipate back into Etherea. Thankfully, she hadn't been injured. But instead of silence, she heard a wicked laughing. She'd almost forgotten, Avalon was still watching in the mirror. Kessara turned around to find Avalon, head thrown back, cackling hysterically._ _ _ _

____Surprisingly, Kessara was overcome with anger. How dare she laugh when she had killed so many of her soldiers? Kessara stormed over and grabbed the mirror, holding it close to her face, teeth bared in challenge._ _ _ _

____"Oh, my beautiful Sanctus. You're more powerful than I could've ever imagined. I will see you soon," Avalon said, almost wistfully. Kessara's lip curled; nostrils flared._ _ _ _

____"You're right, you will see me soon. And you can guarantee that my face will be the last thing you see. You killed thousands of my soldiers, so I will kill you too."_ _ _ _

____She laughed again, that wicked smile boiling the blood in her veins. "I did kill your soldiers, and I enjoyed every last one."_ _ _ _

____Kessara was seething. "You bitch-,"_ _ _ _

____But before she could, finish, Avalon's face had disappeared from the mirror._ _ _ _

____Kessara's vision went black with fury. Faster than a snake, Kessara smashed the mirror with her fist, and relished in the feel of her warm blood dripping down her hand._ _ _ _


	16. Chapter 16

She should not have done that.

Kessara frantically tore through her bags, searching for a clean cloth to wrap her injured hand in. She needed to clean it, but she couldn't see any running water around, so the best she could do was wrap it in a clean cloth until she found something to clean her wounds.

She didn't bring any cloths, so she had to settle for one of her clean shirts.

Kessara sat down on a nearby log and set to work wiping down her wound. She'd split open three knuckles on her left hand, the surrounding skin stained red from the bleeding. She put a finger on either side of her wound and pulled it open, wincing slightly at the sting. She needed to be sure that there were no glass shards embedded in it. Thankfully, she couldn't see any, and continued to wipe the blood off her hand.

Just because there wasn't any glass in her wound, didn't mean that the glass she'd cut herself on wasn't dirty. Especially since it was held by demons. Kessara really needed to find some clean water, as soon as possible. Temporarily, she delicately wrapped her hand in her now-bloodstained shirt. She needed to get out of these woods. She shakily put a foot in Moonbeam's stirrup and swung herself on, trying not to catch her hand on any of the bags or straps, and set off down the path.

Kessara listened hard for running water, and to her relief, she heard the rushing sound just off to her right, right through some tall ferns. As much as she didn't want to go off the beaten path, she hated the idea of an infection even more, so she dismounted her horse and darted off into the bush.

Kessara kept her arm tucked up close to her chest, using her other hand to push by the ferns and branches. Suddenly, her foot squished into a pit of mud.

Bingo. Kessara pushed back another branch, wrenched her foot out of the mud, and found a river. But as soon as she saw the colour of the water, she knew that her endeavor was for nothing.

It was green. But not like the natural, ocean green, a bright radioactive green that matched the glowing moss on the trees. It looked to be a pretty shallow river, but Kessara couldn't really tell, considering the liquid was opaque as well. She knew one thing for sure; whatever was running through this river was most certainly not water. Where the strange mystery liquid hit the few scattered rocks, it hissed and sizzled some part of it away. She cringed. Thank the Goddess she hadn't stuck her hand in there. But this left her in a worse predicament. The only way she'd be able to clean her wound was by using some of her precious water in her water bottle. She only had two, and filled them up periodically as there was almost always some kind of river or pond around. Kessara had already drunk one full one since her last fill-up, and Wallowdale was a three-days journey out of Wild Country. But if she didn't clean her wound now, it might not heal properly and leave her more vulnerable.

Kessara needed to make a decision; infection or thirst. She chose thirst. There had to be some sort of river on the way, right?

When Kessara managed to make it back to her horse, she pulled the makeshift bandage off her injured hand. She rummaged around in her pack, finding her water bottle and tearing the cork out with her teeth. She gently poured some onto her split knuckles, wincing at the returning sting but glad that her wound was clean. Kessara noticed tiny grains of dust and sand in the water that had run out of her wound, which told her she made the right decision. She tore a strip off the shirt to lessen the bulk of the dressing, and expertly wrapped her hand in the same way she would wrap it for training.

She wiggled her fingers, then clenched her hand into a fist. It stung a little, but she'd been injured a lot worse than this, so she ignored the pain and climbed back on to Moonbeam.

Kessara needed to get out of these woods and into the next town, fast. She dug her heels into her horse's sides, urging him into a loping canter.

A few hours later, Kessara and Moonbeam jumped over a large bush and...sunlight. Kessara's eyes burned as the blinding sunlight hit her, and she but a hand to her brow to lessen the glare. She'd made it, she'd made it out of Wild Country. And when the glare finally subsided, she gasped in awe. Before her, as far as the eye could see, were massive plains and fields of wheat and grass. Farm houses that were but tiny smudges of red on the horizon were scattered across the land. It was beautiful, and serene, so unlike the bustle of Givedra or the snobbiness of the Caelum City. And at the very end of the road, a larger smudge of colour, and just behind it, a soft blue glimmer. Kessara smiled. Water. The Aspero Channel. And therefore, Wallowdale. She didn't remember it being nearly this beautiful the last time she'd seen it. But last time she'd been heading toward the site of a massacre. Now, as much as she hated to admit it, now she was running toward hope. And maybe hope could make a land of farms look just a tiny bit brighter. She smiled at that, again.

She clicked her tongue, and Moonbeam launched into a gallop, sending plumes of dust out behind them. Kessara watched the world around her turn to a blur of green and red and blue, and her vision narrowed to the ever-nearing skyline of Wallowdale, her ticket across the Aspero Channel. She willed Moonbeam faster, and he obliged. Kessara stood up in her stirrups and threw a hand to the cloudless blue sky, calling down a thread of energy. She felt the surge of power in her blood, watched how it turned the veins in her wrists glowing blue as it spread to her heart, up her other shoulder and down to her opposite hand. She braced that hand on her horse's shoulder, letting the energy pour into his muscles. She felt his body ripple, and with a great leap, he pinned his ears back on his head and ran like he'd never done before. Kessara's heart jumped in her chest, and she laughed; actually laughed. This, this was her heaven. The complete freedom, the speed, the adrenaline was like a drug. She grabbed a fist full of Moonbeam's mane, the other plunging into her own hair, to rip out that stupid elastic band that stood in the way of the feeling of the wind through her hair. They rocketed down the path, each hoofbeat loud as thunder claps as they did, and within mere seconds she'd made it so close to the city that she could count the windows on the only high-rise in it. And then she realized that if she didn't stop now, she and her horse would slam head first into it. She dug her hand into his shoulder, ripping away the energy she'd given him and throwing it back up to the sky. She sat down hard, pushing all of her weight into her seat and pulled back on the reins as hard as she could. Moonbeam snorted at the sudden yank on his mouth and sat down low, legs locking and skidding to a shaky stop.

Kessara hacked and coughed, accidentally inhaling a lungful of the dust cloud that splayed out all around them. And then it hit her like a ton of bricks. She'd never done that before, shared energy with someone else. She'd never done it with her horse, had never even thought about it. But out there, flying down the path, she'd acted on some sort of instinct, some call from the depths of her reserve of magic. And she'd made a journey that should've taken her hours to complete, take mere seconds. Kessara's breath caught. She had an entirely new depth to her power, and entirely new set of abilities. She could make people stronger, faster, her army stronger, faster. She wondered what else she could build out of her energy. She could turn the tide in this war. And that, combined with the power of the Shadow? Kessara didn't know if it was the high from the run, or the realization of her magic that was making her cocky. But right now, she knew that the Dark Queen didn't stand a chance.

A huge fog horn cut through her smug thoughts. The boats. Water. She'd forgotten, she drank the last of her water and needed a refill. She quickly dismounted her horse, but nearly fell over when her boots hit the dirt. Using her magic like that...it drained her more than she thought. Her knees buckled, and she had to lean against her horse to stay upright. He, ever so helpfully, moved out of the way as soon as she leaned on him, which sent her stumbling all over again. She glared at him, before stalking off to find some water.

After filling up her water pouches; she'd bought two more, just in case, she headed to the nearest healing center to find an ointment for her hand. She was going to take every precaution she could. The healer, a boy about her age with honey-blond hair and bright hazel eyes, took her in straight away after noticing the silver pin on her chest. He'd given her a tin of ointment, taking some from it and smearing it over her wound. It stung initially, but she could feel its healing powers working into the tissue, sealing the laceration. Despite this, he still expertly wrapped her knuckles with thin, airy strips of gauze, much less chunky and restricting than her makeshift one out of her shirt fabric. She grossly overpaid him, simply because he'd been so gentle with her sore fingers, such a fun distraction from her troubles as he chatted and chatted with her about this or that, and because she wanted him to get out of the hovel that was his practice. Or at least, upgrade it. She could almost feel the talent radiating off him. He'd balked at the gold Aurum that she'd dumped onto the counter, speechless for the first time since she'd walked in, and Kessara had left his practice smiling.

This hope was strange to her. She'd always fought, always done her job. But she never really believed in something. Now a tiny glimmer of hope emerged in that empty well, and it had her smiling, had her swinging her arms when she walked. Had her giving way too much gold to the poor healer who'd done nothing but wrap her hand in gauze instead of fabric.

Kessara made it back to her horse, and lead him by hand through the town. She felt bad mounting him, considering the way his whole body heaved in heavy pants. No doubt the last dredges of her energy had faded, and running a path in seconds instead of hours must've put quite the strain on his spoilt royal lungs. So, she led him by hand, weaving through the crowd of people who didn't bother to gawk at her pin or her white horse. Who'd just silently moved to the side to let her pass.

That same horn blasted again, signalling the boat's departure in five minutes. Kessara led her horse down the dock, toward a massive sail boat. It was absolutely enormous, the hull so huge that she couldn't see the deck from where she stood. Carved into the side of the boat was its name; the Enchantress. The hull had a massive door, a door in which merchants, travellers, and crew members were leading their horses and carts through. At the entrance stood the captain, a older man, dressed in a navy Obelisk suit and white cap. When she strode up to him, his eyes widened and he dropped into a deep bow.

"Good afternoon, Commander. I am honored that you will be a passenger on the Enchantress." His voice was shaky with age, but it was warm, and his eyes crinkled when he spoke, like he was smiling. Kessara inclined her head. "Your boat is beautiful, captain..."

"Seawillow, Commander. Captain Seawillow," he bowed once more. "thank you for your compliments, Commander."

She nodded to him, before leading her exhausted horse aboard the Enchantress. Inside looked just as immaculate as outside. It wasn't fancy, but it was clean and well kept, no sign of rot on the corners of the stalls, no traces of rust on the iron hooks for tack and gear. In two neat rows, several horse stalls made from oak wood lined the walls. The floor was made from the same wood, looking freshly waxed. In each stall was a small porthole, a tiny window into the outside world, along with clean bedding and a magically filled water trough. Servants in Cygnis blue uniforms bustled about, sweeping stray shavings, mopping spilled water, checking the chromed hinges on the doors of the stalls. Just to her left was a large staircase, decorated with a sweeping blue carpet and lit by silver lanterns spaced evenly along the matching silver railings. Just by the site of that staircase, she knew the middle deck of the boat would be just as luxurious. She'd certainly stumbled upon one of the best boats in the harbor. The other travellers milled around the space, putting their horses in stalls, parking their carts nearby. The small crowd parted for her, and she strolled through, stopping at an empty stall at the end of the lot. She put Moonbeam inside and set to work unbuckling his tack. A young servant girl, wearing the same Cygnis cobalt uniform, came up to open the stall door. Kessara turned to her; eyebrows raised.

"Commander, please. Allow me-"

Kessara held up a hand to silence her.

"I can do it myself, thank you. In fact, why don't you get me some brushes and a clean bucket of water."

The servant nodded, and left to retrieve her things.

Moonbeam nickered, as if to scold her for being so cold.

"What? I can do it myself!"


	17. Chapter 17

The upper floor of the boat was incredible. It wasn't fancy like the rooms in the Cobalt Castle; the ceilings were low enough that the taller merchants had to hunch slightly, and it certainly wasn't big, but it was clean, tidy, and reminded her of home. It was a sort of lobby area, with cobalt blue couches and mahogany coffee tables closest to the set of portholes on the port side of the boat. The set of stairs that lead down to the stables lead up to the starboard side, straight into the dining area. A few dining tables were scattered about, the table-tops a faux white marble. Toward the bow of the boat was a smaller staircase of a much more modest mahogany wood with matching railings. No doubt to the deck. Toward the stern of the boat was a narrow hallway lined with doors, doors that no doubt lead to housing for the passengers. It was like the ship had been designed to replicate the Caelum City. Kessara felt her heart sink as images of her home flashed through her mind. Walking arm-in-arm with Savannah, eating at the White Stallion, watching her shop for more and more clothes...

She missed her friend terribly. As much as Kessara hated to admit it, she was lonely. She didn't like relying on others, preferring to do things for herself no matter how much it hurt. She refused to be that scared little kid back in Givedra, begging others for food but... she needed warmth. She hated it, but she needed company, human company. Someone who would talk back.

Kessara hoisted her bag over her shoulder, dragging another behind, and headed for the hallway. The other passengers milling about stopped and moved out of her way, before two servants rushed over and picked up her bags for her. The hallway was long and narrow, so narrow that she could touch either wall with her palms. It was a crisp white, looking freshly scrubbed, with no sign of rot or rust. Each door was made from the same mahogany wood most of the doors in the Caelum city were, with a silver handle. Most of them already had 'occupied' stickers on them, except for one at the entrance of the hallway.

Kessara liked to have exits. If she took a room at the very end of the hallway, her only exits would be her that hallway and the potential porthole in the room. If she took this room, at the mouth of the hallway, she had easy access to the lobby, the staircase down to the stables, and the staircase up to the deck. Lots of ways to get out, if need be. Over the years as a spy, decisions like this had become second nature. She'd needed to make many; tiny details could make a huge difference in a fight for her life.

So, she took the silver key out of the lock, and pushed through the door. It was simple, clean, tidy, just like the rest of the boat. A simple twin bed with plain white sheets lay in one corner, and in the other was a small armoire. There was just enough space for either, the room being barely larger than the hallway itself, not that she'd expected any different. She prayed to the Goddess her next week aboard the Enchantress would be much less eventful than the past few times she tried to stay in a bed. At the very back of the room was a tiny porthole; too tiny, Kessara noted, to squeeze through if the need arose. Damn, that's one exit off the list. She motioned for the servants to set down her bags, and they leapt to do so; carefully setting them down next to the bed before hurriedly leaving the room.

All of a sudden, the boat lurched forward. Without years of balance training, she would've easily fallen over, and judging by the confused shouts coming from the lobby just outside her room, a few people did. Kessara's ears strained, trying to pick up the source of the jolt, but her eye caught the now-moving horizon outside. She shook herself; they'd just started moving. Once her heartbeat had slowed to a normal pace, and her bags put away in the armoire, Kessara decided to explore the ship a little more, to go up to the top deck and speak to the captain. Something about the captain of the ship was bothering her. He just seemed... familiar, for some strange reason. She knew he wasn't the same who had given her a ride over the Aspero Channel three years ago, so who was he? She didn't feel as though he was hostile, but out of her own curiosity, she put the silver key around her neck, grabbed her cloak out of her bag, and left the room.

The staircase to the deck was just through the small dining area, so she had to weave through the faux-marble tables to reach it. She threw her cloak around herself as she went, clasping it at her throat. The floorboards creaked as she put a foot on the first stair, but she continued, an irritating voice at the back of her mind telling her it would break if she stepped to hard. Kessara ignored it, but made a point to step a little lighter until she reached the top.

The first thing that hit her was the wind. It blew her already-tangled waves straight out behind her, nearly knocking her off her feet. She bent her knees, putting a hand to her brow to lessen the glare of the sunlight, and looked up to find the captain, standing on the raised back deck with the wheel in hand. The area was under cover, a small white roof holding off the elements. All around her, crew members ran amok, holding bits of rope, pulling and tying it, shouting over the wind to one another. She turned her gaze to the sails, a deep cobalt, a tribute to the queen and her city. Kessara smiled. To her, as a representative of the queen.

Kessara found a ladder that lead up to the captain's area, and set to climbing it. She had years of practice scaling buildings, so a short ladder was nothing as she bounded up the rungs. The ladder came up just behind the wheel, under the cover and right next the edge of the starboard side. If she had slipped on a rung, she could easily fall straight into the water. It was a good thing she didn't slip, though she wondered how an old man would find climbing and reclimbing a ladder to be an easy task.

"Hello, Captain Seawillow," she said, wiping her damp hands on the edge of her cloak.

The captain nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of her voice, an whirled to face her.

"Oh Commander, you gave me such a fright! Most passengers don't ever come up here." He offered her a deep bow. She nodded, before striding gracefully to the wheel.

"Apologies for frightening you, Captain. I was just curious, you see."

"Oh no Commander, you do not need to apologize to me-"

"Tell me, how long have you had this ship?" Kessara asked casually. She didn't make eye contact, instead opting to watch her fingers run along the wooden railing. She knew that eye contact would feel like an interrogation, and she didn't need the captain fearing her. She fought off a cringe. Her hands were stained nearly black with dirt and grime, her fingernails now harboring dark black crescents at the tips. And her bones, she could see the outlines of the bones in her fingers. Food. Food and a bath were next on her to-do list.

"I've had her for two years now," he replied, chest puffing up in pride. Kessara racked her brain. What did she do two years ago...?

"And have you always been a sailor of ships like this?" Innocent, curious questions.

The light in his eyes flickered, just for a split second, but it flickered nonetheless. "No, in my youth I was more of an adventurer really. I would sail across the channel time and time again in the flimsiest of boats, wander through Wild Country, find hidden temples in the Crassa Desert. I decided to retire to sailing with passengers a little over a decade ago."

Hm, an adventurer. Who had she dealt with who was an older adventurer?

"Why did you retire? I'm sure adventuring is more interesting than sailing the same route." Maybe the reason could offer a little more insight.

She watched his grip on the wheel tighten, just slightly. Hm, maybe a lot more.

"During my travels," he said tightly, "I met some... dangers. I decided I didn't want to die."

The missing puzzle piece in Kessara's mind clicked into place. She knew exactly where she knew him from. Two years ago, just after she'd been sent home from the front lines, she'd been tasked with interviewing survivors of the Malum Woods. The queen paid all of survivors handsomely for their time. Kessara still didn't know why the she wanted the intel; the Malum Woods were on the opposite side of Arisia. She had her theories; perhaps some of the legends about hidden tombs full of riches and enchanted weapons scattered throughout held some truth, but Kessara still couldn't see why the queen would risk dispatching precious soldiers to that place for a potential savior. Although, now that she thought about it, that was exactly what Kessara's own mission was now. But the captain was one of those survivors that she'd interviewed. He'd gone into the Malum Woods seven years prior to the interview, exactly ten years from today, the same time he'd just told her he retired.

"Is that why you named her the Enchantress?"

The captain recoiled at that, eyes wide and jaw hanging open. Kessara stayed silent, cocking her head just slightly. She knew that not saying anything could be more helpful than speaking.

"I remember you, from the interview," he said, still gawking.

Kessara smiled. "I felt I knew you from somewhere. Did you really meet an enchantress in the Malum Woods?"

He cringed at the name. "Yes. They are everything the legends say. And worse."

Interesting. Not his story, but the fact that the queen wanted to hear it. Wanted the intelligence. Kessara wondered if Avalon had her own tentacles out, searching around in the woods as her own queen was. And if so, why? What could a few riches and a couple weapons do to help an army that was already infinite? Already near-unkillable? As far as she knew, the queen had abandoned any efforts to infiltrate the woods, never speaking of it since the day of the interviews. Kessara never inquired, believing it to be a fool's errand anyhow. But now, she wondered if it was really a fool's errand after all. Of course, all those files were back at the Cobalt Castle, so she would have no way of researching it, unless...

"Well, thank you for your time, Captain. It was pleasant meeting you again." Kessara gave him a polite nod before bounding down the ladder and returning to her room.

Once she'd checked and double-checked her lock, she rummaged through her luggage for a spare piece of parchment and ink. There wasn't a flat surface to write on, so she opted for the floor, smoothing the crumpled paper on the wood. She pulled the stopper out of the bottle of ink, dipped her feather, and began to write:

_Crown Princess,_

_Malum Woods. Tell me what you find._

_Signed,_

_Commander Blackrose ___

__Kessara drew a sigil in the bottom left corner, a kind of knot of swirling lines that resembled a flame. Suddenly, the parchment caught fire, sizzled to ash, and then disappeared._ _

__Hopefully her friend would get the message. And get back to her before she went stir-crazy waiting for more information._ _


	18. Chapter 18

Savannah was sitting at Alaric's kitchen table, reading that book on the Forbidden Armies that they'd found in Kessara's study when the message burned to life in front of her. It had nearly knocked her out of her chair in fright, Alaric instinctively drawing twin silver daggers, before they realized what it was.

A flare. A message of fire. The ashes stitched themselves back together within the flame before snuffing out with a loud pop. Savannah whipped her head toward the door, heart pounding, hoping against hope no one heard the sound. She reached out her empathy magic, which could usually feel people within a ten-meter radius, but, thank the Goddess, she felt nothing. She turned back to Alaric, who was also staring fixedly on the door, daggers still out.

"I can't feel anyone. I don't think anyone heard," she whispered. Her gaze fixed on the flare, sitting neatly folded on the table. So did Alaric's. She dove for it, but he was faster, snatching it up before she could get her hands on it.

Damn Commanders and they're speediness.

"Apologies, Princess." She shot him her best death-glare, which she knew was probably the least scary thing in Orbis. He gave her a small smile. "Savannah. For your own protection, I must read it before you."

Savannah had begged him to stop calling her 'Crown Princess' for almost two weeks now, but he'd only just come around in the past few days. He still slipped up and called her by her title, but it was better than nothing.

She felt his emotions shift, relief, confusion, and a strange feeling that was difficult to decipher, but she was good at what she did. She bit down on the inside of her cheek to stop her smile.

_Oh Kessara, I can't wait for you to come home _,__ she thought.

She watched his hazel eyes read the note. And then reread it. And reread it again.

"It's from Kessara." Was... was his voice shaking?

Savannah jumped up from her chair and ripped the note out of his hand. She instantly recognized the handwriting, near illegible.

_Crown Princess,_

_Malum Woods. Tell me what you find._

_Signed,_

_Commander Blackrose_

"Malum Woods? Why would she want us to research the Malum Woods?" she thought out loud. Until she noticed the colour that had drained from Alaric's face. Savannah's heart began to race. She couldn't, she wouldn't...

As if reading her thoughts, Alaric nodded. Then shook his head.

"No, there's no way she could've tracked the Shadow to the Malum Woods this quickly. She's only been gone two weeks; she should've just made it to the Aspero Channel by now."

He pointed to a city called Wallowdale, on the map Kessara had made before she left, already marked with a red sewing pin. It was right on the coast of the Aspero Channel.

Savannah felt a wave of relief wash over her. Thank the Goddess, she wasn't planning on going in to that damned place. But then...

"There has to be another reason why she wants me to look into those woods," she said, closing her book. "But what?"

Alaric shook his head. "I don't know, but I do know that she wouldn't risk sending this message if she didn't think it was important. And she certainly wouldn't risk it if she knew what was going on here."

Savannah nodded. The constant checking over her shoulder, looking around corners with a mirror, that hadn't eased in the past weeks. In fact, the horrible feeling of dread in her gut had worsened. Even Alaric had felt it, had begun walking around the castle without his cape, with his twin silver daggers in his belt. Had started to accompany her everywhere. Savannah was thankful, so thankful to have someone who could protect her from whatever was making her feel so sick. Thankful that she had a friend who knew how she felt. She'd begun sleeping in his spare bedroom while he stood watch outside her door. He had started to incorporate her into his easier classes as well, and she had gotten stronger, faster, had learned some techniques that Kessara hadn't taught her. He taught her more defensive tactics; how to get out of a variety of choke holds, how to escape bonds, how to disarm someone, how to fight for her life. He taught her to fight without rules, because in a fight to survive, a fight to kill, there were no rules. She'd noticed her usually frail, skinny princess arms bulk up, gain muscle. Noticed her ribs disappearing, replaced by hard layers of muscle. Her dresses fit too tight now. Savannah's servants had needed to take out most of her clothes as the seams kept pulling at the shoulders and down the back. She'd realized with a shock that she looked like Kessara. A much blonder, less broody Kessara.

Savannah smiled to herself. She missed her terribly, even if she had only been gone two weeks.

"We cannot tell her about this. She has enough to think about already, and she will abandon her mission and come to my aid if she believes I am in danger." She shivered, remembering her mother's ultimatum. From the look on Alaric's face, he was too.

"It stays between us," he promised.

"Good. Let's research the Malum Woods."

*************

She received a reply a day before the boat was set to dock in Duskorn. Kessara wanted to jump for joy when the flare appeared on her desk. She'd thankfully been sitting in her room when it came, and she'd snatched it straight out of the air. The fire was cold, so she didn't have to worry about burning her fingers. The last few days had been some of the most boring of her life. All she did was go over all the intel she'd gathered in her head. Over and over and over. She was going absolutely crazy, so when that paper appeared in front of her, she nearly cried with relief. Nearly.

Kessara carefully unfolded the paper to find Savannah's unmistakable loopy handwriting.

_Dear Kessara,_

_We found your notes. The Malum Woods is the home of monsters. Enchantresses, Nightstalkers, Skinwalkers, Changelings, witches, dragons and more. It is said that the entrance to the faerie realm lies within. Looters enter because of the rumored ancient tombs full of gold that lie there. We miss you._

_With love,_

_Savannah_

_Alaric_

Kessara smiled to herself. They both signed the bottom, Savannah with similar loops and swirls, Alaric with straight, harsh strokes of the quill. She reread the note, actually trying to absorb the information, not get distracted by this little slice of her friend.

Kessara swallowed hard. She remembered the list of monsters from two years ago, when she interviewed those people. Enchantresses were creatures of evil; seen as unnaturally beautiful men and women with inherent gifts for magic. Extremely vengeful and easily offended, they would lure wandering travellers into their lairs, use them as their own personal playthings. The victims were bewitched to enjoy it, too. Kessara shuddered. She still didn't know what Skinwalkers or Nightstalkers were; made up names the survivors had given them after the fact. There was no research on either, and frankly, she didn't really want to know. Witches were practically everywhere and easy enough to kill, so she barely bothered with those. But dragons... dragons were interesting. She'd never seen one, apart from in the imaginings of artists on the walls in the castle gallery. They'd always intrigued her, but that was beside the point of the message.

The entrance to the faerie realm. Very lucrative, many legends told revolved around the faeries. No one had ever seen one or heard one. In fact, there wasn't any reason to believe that there even was a faerie realm. However, if the legends are true, having an ally with the faeries could mean hundreds of thousands of extra warriors to fight in the war. Warriors with a whole host of magic abilities. They didn't have sorcery, but their magic was rumoured to be strong, very strong. With their help, the war could be won, easily. Kessara shook herself. All speculation, of course.

This is was perfect. She mouthed a silent thank you to Savannah, before she folded the paper and tucked it into her pocket. A little slice of her. A little slice of home.

The sky outside was dark, the moon almost directly overhead. It was late, she should sleep. Kessara was already in her night clothes; a thin gray tank top and soft cotton shorts. She climbed into bed, and passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow. And for the first time in a very long time, she didn't have a single dream.


	19. Chapter 19

Kessara hadn't wanted to stay in Duskorn longer than she needed to. The trip across the Mori Passage was only two days long, so there really was no point in staying in the tiny town. She would have just gotten straight on the next boat, but her poor horse needed to stretch his legs before another few days of travel. And besides, she really could've used a stretch of her own.

It was a tiny little town, with a few run-down houses, a corner store, and a rather large fish market, considering the size of the town. The residents most likely earned their keep fishing the small bay in the land. Kessara took the opportunity to refill her water and buy some gauze to change the dressing on her hand.

She'd sat down on a bench near a patch of grass for Moonbeam and peeled off the bandage. The gauze had been sticky and gross, but her split knuckles were healing cleanly. The gashes weren't as wide as they once were, and the skin around the wound wasn't red or raw. There was no swelling, and she could see the beginnings of a scab forming around the edges. She'd pulled the tin of ointment out of her pocket and smeared some on her knuckles before gently wrapping it back up.

She was a day in to her journey across the Mori Passage. The boat she was on was small and rickety, a very old-fashioned style with dirty white sails. Her heartrate certainly wasn't at the healthiest of levels throughout the trip. She was the only passenger aboard, so she spent most of her time in Moonbeams stall, grooming him.

Goddess, she must sound like lunatic, spending her hours talking to horse. But she had nothing else to do. She'd learned what she could about the Malum Woods, about the _Shadow_ 's potential attacks, about the thinning. She only had bits and pieces of information, never the whole picture. The faerie realm was an interesting new find, but there was no evidence of its existence. She had no way of tracking one of the fallen beings from the doorway in the Silva Forest, and she didn't even know exactly why the _Shadow_ left Zulvalar in the first place. She didn't want to think about Warren's vision either. But it was all she had, and right now, her most important task was to locate the _Shadow_ , and drag him back to the Cobalt Castle.

Kessara paused her brushing. Come to think of it, how _would_ she bring the _Shadow_ back to the castle? They needed him on their side, fighting for Cygnis, so she couldn't exactly tie him up and drag him behind her horse. That would just make him want to fight them, and she couldn't have that. But becoming besties with him wasn't an option either. If the legends were true, he was powerful and dangerous. Only the Goddess knew what he might do while she slept.

Kessara thought for a moment. Maybe the reason for his leaving held a clue as to how to convince him to join her. The _Shadow_ was accredited with thousands of high-profile assassinations, working under Empress Avalon for the past ten years. What would make him leave? She couldn't imagine it was pleasant to stay with her. Was he tortured by her? Did she threaten his family? Maybe he was a prisoner, forced to carry out the Dark Queen's bidding. Kessara pressed her lips together. Or, maybe he was a psychotic killer. Maybe he was a spy, loyal to no one but Avalon. Maybe there would be no way to convince him to switch sides. And in that case, she would have to kill him, she realized. She couldn't allow him to go back to Avalon, to reveal Cygnis's desperation. She would have to opportunity to take out one of Avalon's best, and if she couldn't turn him, she would have to kill him.

Warren's vision still nagged at her, however. Who was the woman with snakes for hair? Who was the man with the glowing eyes and bloodied back? Why would he see her with a noose around her neck? And what did the demons have to do with it? Yes, it was a psychic vision, usually just nonsense, but it still bugged her. Warren wouldn't have gone through all that trouble to tell her if he didn't believe it to be true.

Suddenly a great horn cut through her thoughts, and Kessara felt her balance shift as the boat slowed down. They'd made it across the Mori Passage. Kessara quickly threw Moonbeam's saddle on, fingers fumbling with the buckles. She went to her room, dragging her bags down to the stall and tying them to her horse before leading him out of the stall and to the door. She waited at the entrance with the reins in hand until the door yawned open.

The Calams Isle was a tropical island, the western continent being much warmer than the east. The boat wasn't docked, it was beached, the bow cutting a deep laceration into the sand. A few meters up the beach was the boundary line of a thick tropical forest. Massive palm trees, gum trees, and some trees she didn't recognize made up the most of it while massive vines hung from the highest branches; mosses and bright green bushes covered the ground. Kessara wondered how on earth she would find a path through the thicket. The last time she'd been here, there had been a carved path already; narrow, yes, but a path nonetheless. It had been three years ago though, and not many people travel this route, not with the war going on. The paths must've grown over.

Kessara lead her horse out of the boat and on to the soft white sand. Her boots sunk into it, so it was an effort to take a step. She decided that mounting Moonbeam was the better option, and quickly swung her leg over. He snorted in protest but she just urged him forward, nodding a quick thanks to the captain.

She scanned the jungle. There had to be some semblance of that path, a small space of thinner brush... there.

A small area where the vines looked younger and greener, the bushes slightly smaller. Perfect. That must be where the path was.

Kessara dug her heels into Moonbeam's sides, drawing her sword out of her belt. She raised it above her head and sliced through a vine in a sweeping stroke. Only to be greeted by another vine.

She sighed. This was going to be fun.

If she remembered correctly, the journey through the jungle was only a few hours long, however frustrating it may be. On the other side was a small village by the name of Luelle; the only settlement on the isle. She wondered if they'd heard anything of the _Shadow_ , maybe have any other unsolved murders that could be linked to him. Any more information that she could find would help tremendously. Kessara felt like she was closing in, but her search area was still an entire kingdom.

A few hours later, Kessara was grateful for Moonbeam's lightweight armor. She certainly wished for some of her own. Her cloak had hundreds of tiny tears in it, and her leather boots were scuffed and dirty from brushing past branches and leaves. The forest was loud, but not ominous like Wild Country. It had a sort of vibrancy to it. Tiny birds flew out of the trees, small furry animals darted across the ground. Strange bird calls sounded in the distance, along with leaves rustling and sticks crunching beneath her horse's feet. The air was damp and humid, which didn't do much for her hair, but it also smelled fresh and clean. Much cleaner than the air in the cities, what with the gas fires and blacksmiths. In a strange way, she kind of liked it there. It was... freeing. However, her arm was near dead from swinging her sword for the past few hours.

 _Wait a minute_...She'd forgotten her newfound ability. She didn't know if it would work on herself, considering she channeled the energy through her own body anyway, but it was worth a shot. Her sword felt like it weighed a ton, and she doubted she could go on for another hour like that anyway without some extra kick.

Kessara halted her horse and put her free hand to the sky. Feeling the pool of energy up there, she curled some around her imaginary fingers and pulled it down and into her hand. She could feel the energy in her blood, watching the veins in her wrist and elbow turn a glowing blue. But it wasn't making her feel any stronger. She thought for a moment. The energy was in her blood, yes... but not her muscles! She willed the energy to flow through her body and down her sword-arm; not through her veins but into her muscles.

And within a second, the heavy ache disappeared. Her arm felt a thousand times stronger, Kessara felt like she could snap branches in half with her bare hands, no sword required. But she decided against. She lifted the sword as easily as if it were a toothpick, and sliced through the next branch. And the next. And the next. It was good to know she could strengthen herself if the need arose.

Up ahead, she could see the trees thinning, and just beyond that a slight glimmer on the horizon. Water. The Kraken Cove. Luelle should be just beyond the treeline, and Kessara channeled some more energy into her sword arm, and within a few minutes, she stood on the border of the town.

It was a tiny little fishing village, much like Duskorn, with a much more extravagant harbor. The houses were log huts that looked hand-built, all in a circle facing toward a sort of center square in the shape of an altar. She remembered this place. There were no stores or money; they were completely self-sufficient. A small farming area was set up in one corner, and just to her right was a grove of tree stumps; no doubt where they had cut them down. A larger building stood right near the water's edge with smoke billowing from its clay chimney. But the last time she'd been here, it had been bustling with life and energy. People had been farming and weaving and smoking fish, children had been playing ball or practicing their sorcery. They had laughed and danced and sung, the whole place feeling like a wonderful community. Now, the whole place seemed like a ghost town. All the windows were locked and shuttered, and not a soul was outside. The silence was deafening, the only clue that it was still occupied being the smoke puffing from the chimneys. It looked deserted. Kessara gripped the hilt of her sword a little tighter. Something was wrong.

She slowly walked through the village, eyes scanning left and right. But she found no clue as to why the people had shut themselves away. The houses were clean, no screams or blood or the sulfuric scent of demons. She had no idea what was wrong.

Suddenly, the sound of a window unlatching had her whipping her head to her right, aiming her sword on instinct at the source.

"Commander Blackrose?" A woman's voice whispered. Kessara lowered her sword and frowned. The woman's voice was shaking, she sounded scared.

"Yes-"

"Oh, thank the Goddess, you've come to save us!" the woman grovelled. Kessara waved her off.

"What's going on here?" she demanded. She squinted at the window, trying to make out a face, but all the lights were off. The only features she could make out were the curl of the woman's fingers around the open window, and her terrified brown eyes. Kessara guessed the woman was older, based on the wrinkles around her eyes and the spotted skin on her hands.

"We are hiding, Commander."

Kessara raised and eyebrow. Hiding? Hiding from what?

"Why?"

Those brown eyes darted left and right. "Yesterday, one of our elderly couples was murdered."

"Murdered? How?"

She glanced around again.

"In their bed, throats slit."

Kessara's heart started racing. This wasn't a murder; it was an assassination. Throats slit in their beds was exactly the _Shadow_ 's M.O. He was here, but why?

"Who was the couple? What was their role here?" she asked. She needed to know the reason for their deaths.

"They were ordinary," the woman whispered, "the husband was a fisherman recently retired, the wife a weaver. There was nothing special about them."

Kessara pursed her lips. If the _Shadow_ wanted these people dead, there had to be a reason. But what would an ordinary village couple be doing on the _Shadow_ 's hitlist?

"Did they have any family?"

The woman was silent for a minute. Kessara knew she'd hit something.

"They had two sons." The woman took a deep, heaving breath. "Twins. The older one, Falcon, was their favourite. He had the makings of a powerful hydrokinetic, showing at just four years old, but his brother River showed nothing. The day before their sixth birthday, Falcon died." The woman huffed a bitter laugh. "Drowned in the cove. How ironic, a waterbender drowning."

Sorcery was found in children before they were six years old. If they haven't shown any powers by their sixth birthday, it was highly unlikely they would show anything at all. Some families disowned their children on their sixth birthdays if they hadn't shown anything, which was rather sad, really.

The woman continued. "The couple waited that one day for River to show, but he didn't. In their grief, they tossed him out, sending him away on the next boat to Olania. They couldn't bear to see Falcon's face on River's, and not when he was such a disappointment."

Kessara cringed, flashbacks of her own time on the streets; begging for food, sleeping in the back of a carriage, forcing their way to the surface.

"The village forgave them, of course, and we helped them grieve. But that was sixteen years ago, and the ordeal was mostly forgotten. No one in Luelle would ever kill another."

Maybe it was her naturally suspicious nature, but the woman sounded like she was more trying to convince herself than Kessara. It would offer a motive; maybe not all of the village forgave the couple. But why wait sixteen years to do it? And besides, the M.O matched the _Shadow_ 's perfectly. But that raised more questions than answers.

Kessara needed one more bit of information.

"What were the couple's names?"

The woman removed her hand from the edge of the window.

"Rohana and Jako Lockwood," she whispered, before shutting and latching her window.

Kessara mouthed their names to herself, committing them to memory. If the _Shadow_ really was behind the assassination, he was only a day ahead of her. Now she knew which way he was headed; west. She was closing in.

Kessara sheathed her sword and let the energy dissipate back up to Etherea, suddenly feeling bone tired. Channeling all that energy for such a long time had knocked her out good. But she didn't dare stay the night in Luelle, not when she was so close to completing this mission once and for all. So, she urged her horse onward toward the dock, and boarded the next boat across the Kraken Cove to Olania. 


	20. Chapter 20

The journey across the Kraken Cove was just as uneventful as the last. It was a three-day journey, and Kessara spent it sleeping and pondering the murder in Luelle. She'd come up empty, much to her frustration. She still had way too many questions and too few answers. She was getting claustrophobic, all the unanswered questions closing in on her like close walls in her room aboard the ship, so when the captain announced that the journey up the Crystal Canal was another day, she'd been ready to jump over the side and swim to Khelsia herself.

The rest had helped her regain her strength, however. Kessara had practiced channeling her energy into different parts of her body. She'd found she gained strength in her arms and core, but speed in her legs. But when she'd tried to send it to her eyes, nothing happened. She supposed super strength and speed had to do.

Khelsia, the capital city of Olania, was situated a few kilometers up the Crystal Canal, a river named after its crystal-clear waters. It was a massive, colourful city, and the home of the Olanian King Orion. Olania wasn't exactly wealthy because its southern geography and close proximity to the Crassa Desert made it difficult to grow resources, but it was bustling with people and culture. Nowhere in Khelsia would one find a frilly dress or a fastener. Kessara thought back to the last time she was there, and memories of the food were the clearest. It was all street vendors, selling delicious hand-made food; curries and spices and breads and kebabs. Kessara's mouth watered. She would definitely gain back her lost weight once she made it there.

From what she could remember of meeting him, King Orion was very kind and loved by the people, similar to Savannah. Olania used to be a lovely place to be. Now, with the war raging on their northern border with Arisia, most people lived in fear. Cygnis forces had been dispatched to the area to join the Olanian soldiers, but they had only been able to hold their ground, never gaining but thankfully, never losing. So, life resumed as well as it could.

Kessara felt the boat begin to slow. She'd made it to Khelsia.

A few crew members helped her tie her bags back onto Moonbeam before pulling a lever and opening the drawbridge door.

Kessara was instantly hit by the smell. Delicious hot food of all sorts, the spices, the saltiness of the saltwater river. She inhaled deeply, savouring the amazing scents. It was loud, so loud. She could hear vendors shouting at passing traders and residents all the way from the dock. She put her foot in the stirrup and swung her leg over, urging Moonbeam forward into the city, hoofs clicking on the hollow wood dock. A man wearing signature Olania red holding a clipboard greeted her with a bow as she stepped off the dock.

It was so colourful. People wearing bright tunics and pants and scarves and cloaks of every colour of the rainbow. Canopies of the same variety of colours shaded vendors of all different goods from the blinding sun. Bustling shoulder to shoulder in the dirt streets were travellers, merchants, horses with carts pulling even more goods. Massive high rises painted all shades of red and orange stood mere feet from one another, separating the streets into main roads and tiny back alleys. Kessara rode Moonbeam through the main street, a massive dirt road surrounded on all sides by vendors in carts or under tents. It was incredibly crowded, but much like Givedra, everyone moved in a chaotic order. No one bumped into each other, everyone narrowly missing one another, moving in a sort of dance. No one paid Kessara a second glance, just silently moved out of her way as she came through.

It was beautiful. Not pristine and elegant like the Caelum City, but vibrant and energetic. There was so much to see, Kessara couldn't take in enough of it at once. The colour, the sounds of hoofbeats and shouts and cartwheels kicking up clouds of dust, the smells of delicious food. But she could enjoy the city later, right now, she needed to find the stationhouse. There had to be some unsolved murders here, something that could point her to the _Shadow_.

Many years ago, back in the days of Queen Esperanza, Cygnis set up station houses in all the major cities in Orbis. At the time, Cygnis had the best army and could spare the extra soldiers, so they were task with keeping order. Now, they'd become a sort of police force, managing the city and keeping peace.

In the distance, the stationhouse stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the colour and vibrancy of the rest of the city. It was white marble with a cobalt blue shingled roof and a mahogany wood door; just like every single building in the Caelum City. Kessara supposed the contrast was a good thing; people knew exactly where to go when they needed help. But it saddened her that it disrupted this beautiful slice of culture. Kessara dug her heels into her horse's sides, and he leapt into a lazy trot, making it into the stationhouse within a few seconds.

She jumped off his back, tying him to the iron rail outside the building. Kessara went to adjust her cloak; she couldn't very well walk into the stationhouse and look frazzled in front of her soldiers, but cringed when her fingers poked through the many holed in the fabric. She swore under her breath. That stupid jungle ruined it. Kessara reached up and unclasped it from her throat before shoving it into one of her bags. She dug around and found her blue cape, quickly pinning it over her left shoulder, and tried to smooth her wild chocolate waves as best she could.

Kessara took a deep breath, and marched up the steps to the door. She slammed it open, quickly taking in the sights. It looked exactly like the stationhouse she'd visited in Givedra, only about three times the size and much less crowded. Every Sergeant and Deputy had their own work space, a small cubicle yes but their own nonetheless. Each was busy filing paperwork, poring over evidence photos, or discussing cases with their peers. She looked for the Marshal's office, and found it, a tiny little space at the very back of the space. She squinted at the window. It was also empty.

As soon as she'd set foot into the stationhouse, all the bustle stopped. Every Sergeant and Deputy dropped what they were doing and stood at attention; arms straight at their sides, chest puffed out and chin high.

"Commander!" they shouted in unison, recognizing her presence.

"At ease, gentlemen," she said, scanning them all for their Marshal as they relaxed. She spotted him instantly, as he walked out of the crowd and came right up to her. She noticed the way the Sergeants and Deputies stiffened as he walked by, not in fear, but a salute of respect. He couldn't have been much older than she was. He wore a white dress shirt, rolled up to the elbows with the top button undone, and a blue cape, much like her own, pinned over his left shoulder with a silver Marshal pin. He was certainly handsome, with close-cropped coffee coloured hair and bright brown eyes, like sunshine through a bottle of whisky. Body built like a spy; lean and strong. She narrowed her eyes. The honey coloured skin on his left shoulder held a wide scar, the exact same size of a dagger. She wondered how he got that.

He didn't seem to notice her gaze, and bowed deeply at the waist before her.

"Commander Blackrose," he said, smiling wide at her. "it's an honor to meet you."

He held out a hand. "Marshal Zephyr Rockshade, at your service!"

Kessara raised an eyebrow. Certainly not a traditional greeting, though she didn't mind considering the efficiency of his stationhouse. She took his hand, and he shook it a few extra times.

"Pleasure to meet you, Marshal Rockshade. Your stationhouse seems to be running well?"

She noticed the Sergeants and Deputies nodding slightly. Good sign.

"It is running beautifully, Commander." His smile faltered, and he turned around to address his soldiers. "Disperse," he barked. They all instantly went back to their work.

Kessara raised an eyebrow. "What is going on, Marshal?"

Zephyr pressed his lips together, and then leaned in close. "I assume you're here about the _Shadow_."

"What about the _Shadow_?" she demanded, but she couldn't bury her excitement. He had something. She was so close she could almost taste it.

Zephyr motioned for her to follow him, and they went to his office. He held the door for her, before going over to his desk and rummaging through one of the bigger drawers. While he did, Kessara took the opportunity to look around his office. It was tiny, but well kept, with a large desk against one wall and a few filing cabinets against another. A small chair sat on the other side of the desk, and a case board covered in newspaper clippings, photos, and notes all connected by red string, filtered the light from the window. She studied it closer, reading the newspaper clippings. To her shock, every one of them mentioned the _Shadow_.

Just when she was going to turn around and ask him about the case board, he slammed a stack of case files on his desk. Kessara gawked at the sheer number of them.

"Are these all the _Shadow_?" she asked.

He nodded. "I've been chasing him since I was a Deputy."

There must have been about a hundred files in the stack, all stamped with a big red 'unsolved' status. She felt like she'd struck a gold mine.

Zephyr began to pace back and forth in his office while Kessara grabbed a handful of files, flipping through them. He was right, all of them had the same M.O; throats slit in their beds with different, untraceable knives.

"For the past few years, we've been steadily gaining proposed _Shadow_ cases. In February and March, we nearly had them once per week. But in the beginning of April, they all just stopped. We've had nothing for the past month. Absolute silence," he explained.

Kessara felt her excitement diminish. Nothing for a month. She had nothing recent. He was already a day ahead of her, he might not even be in the city.

"Which makes me think," he continued, "that he either left Avalon, left the city, or died."

Kessara rolled her eyes. "Gee, helpful."

He shrugged. "It's all I got."

Kessara sat down on his desk and rubbed her jaw. "I don't think he died, because he killed two people in Luelle the day before I got there. And there was nothing recent in Givedra, Cantasile or Wallowdale. I think he's here, or near here."

Zephyr's eyes lit up. "He killed someone in Luelle?"

"Yes, like I said, the day before I got there..." she trailed off as an idea formed in her head. "I need a list of everyone who came into the city through the Crystal Canal yesterday."

Kessara leapt up and made for the door, Zephyr on her heels.

"I'll bet anything his name is on that list."

Zephyr grinned.

"Commander, I must say that you are a genius."

Kessara smiled too. She was so close. She could picture it now; coming back to the castle, the _Shadow_ in tow. She would see the queen first, then Savannah. She would take a nice, long, hot shower and sleep for a week. And after all of that, she would set to work on the real mission; killing Empress Avalon.

She didn't even bother mounting Moonbeam, just made a beeline for the docks, weaving and ducking through the crowds.

Within a few minutes, she and Zephyr had spoken to the dock manager, who, thank the Goddess, kept meticulous records of everyone who entered and left. He was the same man she'd seen in red on the docks, with the clipboard. Zephyr had explained to her that the dock worker was famous for knowing everyone in Khelsia, so he didn't need to ask names unless they were new. Kessara assumed he'd recognized her as a Commander, which was why he didn't ask her for a name. He'd told them that ten people had arrived in Khelsia yesterday, and that there were only three newcomers that time, all of which were happy to give up their names. He'd given her the full list of names, three of which were starred. Zephyr had thanked the dock worker while Kessara pored over the names. _Jett Wisescar, Blair Whitebrook and Brooklyn Lunaswan_. Two women and a man. She decided to look into the man first, considering it was widely held that the _Shadow_ was male.

"What does Jett Wisescar look like?" she asked the man. If he was new, he wouldn't have an address to his name in the city, so she would need a description to better find him.

He thought for a moment. "He had very dark hair and bright blue eyes, with a big scar that went from his hairline to his jaw through his left eye."

Kessara froze. Warren's vision, the man in white. He had dark hair and blue eyes and a scar. Jett Wisescar was the man in the vision. The pieces were starting to fall into place.

She had a name.


	21. Chapter 21

The warm water felt amazing on Kessara's skin. She hadn't bathed in a bathtub for weeks, always cleaning in a freezing cold river or stream, so having a real hot bath felt incredible. She must have spent an hour in there, just warming up to the water, before she finally decided to be productive and get out. She quickly toweled off and changed into a thin tank top and sweat pants before sitting on the bathroom counter in front of the mirror to brush her wet hair. It was... certainly an ordeal. She wrenched the brush through her chocolate waves, and after a long time and a lot of pain, she'd managed to comb out all the tangles.

After speaking to the dock manager, she and Zephyr Rockshade had returned to the stationhouse to go over some theories about how to find Jett Wisescar. The problem was, they had to be secretive about it, as they didn't want him to spook and run. So, they couldn't put up posters or ask witnesses, as it would tip him off to their search. The only way they could find this guy was to watch the streets and pray to the Goddess that they could find him. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack the size of a city, and Kessara was _not_ looking forward to it. It was nearly dark out by the time they'd finished their plan, and Kessara found a small hotel to sleep in. It wasn't fancy, but it wasn't gross like the hotel in Givedra. By the time Kessara laid her head on the pillow, she was fast asleep.

But her exhaustion didn't stop the dreams.

_She was back on the battlefield. That giant bear charged her, and she dove to the side, tripping over the body of a soldier. He was just a kid, but he lay lifeless in a puddle of his own blood. But the bear was almost upon her, so she threw a shield of energy around it. It roared as it disappeared in a cloud of dust. Just as quickly, a pack of five wolf-demons leapt for her, and she engaged them in combat. She killed them all, but the soldier who fought a horned demon wasn't so lucky. Before she could rip her gold knife out of the last wolf demon, the horned demon punched its fist through the soldier's chest and ripped his heart clean from his body. Kessara screamed, but no sound came out because..._

_She couldn't breathe. She reached up, clawing at the rope around her neck. It burned her skin, twisting and grating against it. She tried to take a breath, but all she could manage was a shallow gasp that couldn't get past her crushed windpipe. Pure, blind terror gripped her and she kicked her legs, but hit nothing but air. Hanging, the Gallows, couldn't breathe, she couldn't- she couldn't breathe..._

Kessara sat bolt upright, fingers to her throat, covered in cold sweat. Her chest heaving, she kicked off the covers, and turned her focus to the number of oil lamps in the room.

_"One, two, three, four, five, one, two, three, four, five..."_

She had been hanging in her dream. It was completely different this time. She saw the usual nightmare, but she'd been hanging at the end of it. She shivered.

Once her breathing returned to a normal rate and her heartrate slowed, she noticed a sharp sting on her neck. She peeled her fingers away, and found they were warm and sticky, with blood. It was under her fingernails. Kessara jumped up from her bed, stumbling over her feet, and made a beeline for the bathroom mirror. Bracing both bloodied hands on the counter, she carefully tilted her neck to the side, and sucked in a breath.

Six long scratches, nail marks, marred her skin. They bled slightly, the red dripping down her neck and onto her shirt. Kessara quickly turned the sink on, smearing blood on the handle, and rinsed her sticky fingers before grabbing a towel and placing it on her neck. She pressed down on the wounds to stop the bleeding, flinching at the slight sting.

Kessara couldn't believe she'd actually clawed the skin off her neck in her sleep. These nightmares were getting out of hand, but she had no idea how to stop them. All she could do was carry on. But she had physically hurt herself in her sleep. What would have happened if there was someone else in the room?

She gingerly peeled the towel off her neck, wincing slightly, and examined her wounds. Thankfully, the scratches were superficial, barely breaking the skin, but the connotations of the ordeal still scared her. What if she had cut herself deeper? Her nightmares were getting worse, and she knew it.

Kessara rummaged around her cloak pockets for the tin of ointment she'd gotten in Wallowdale. She scooped some out with her fingers and carefully spread it on her neck. It was cool and soothing, and much like her knuckles, she could feel the healing power in the slight tingle in the cuts. Considering how fast the deep lacerations in her knuckles healed, the scratches should look much better by morning. Kessara rinsed the blood off the counters and faucet before padding back to her bed. Thank the Goddess she didn't get blood all over her sheets. She climbed back under the covers, the sheets still warm, and tried to get some sleep.

A few hours of staring at the ceiling later, Kessara groggily climbed out of bed. She dressed in tight black pants, a long-sleeved black shirt and her black leather boots. She kept her chocolate waves down this time, and brushed some fresh mascara over her lashes before pinning her silver commander pin on her left shoulder. She buckled her thigh and hip holsters to her body as she walked down the steps in the hotel and out the front door.

Kessara decided to leave Moonbeam in his stall for the day; she didn't want him to be tied to a post for hours on end, opting to walk the short distance to the stationhouse. Even at seven o' clock in the morning, the city was teeming with energy. It was just is busy and vibrant as it was yesterday afternoon, with merchants and vendors advertising their goods to a massive crowd. Kessara ducked and dove through the crowd, avoiding eye contact with pushy merchants. Soon she made it to the doorstep of the stationhouse. She firmly pushed open the door (she had a reputation to uphold, after all) and marched in, nodding to release the Sergeants and Deputies who had immediately stood at attention when they saw her.

"Commander Blackrose, welcome back!" Marshal Zephyr Rockshade gave her a crooked smile before dipping a deep bow. Kessara waved him off.

"Ready to finally catch the _Shadow_?" she asked.

His brown eyes flashed. "Hell. Yeah."

Kessara huffed a laugh.

"I've been chasing this son of a bitch for years. He's going down. Today." He turned and marched toward his office.

She trailed behind him, quickly dismissing the Sergeants and Deputies before, shutting Zephyr's door behind her.

He was sitting on top of his desk, his feet on the guest chair, staring at the case board with narrowed eyes.

"There has to be an easier way to do this," he mused, rubbing his jaw.

"Well," Kessara went around to the other side of his desk, sitting in his chair, "unless you have a way to track someone without an address, there isn't. We have to be out on the streets."

Zephyr shook his head. "it doesn't make it any less annoying."

"Welcome to the job, Marshal."

He got up from his desk, wandering over to the case board.

"After all my years of chasing this guy, I still don't understand one thing."

Kessara raised an eyebrow. "And what is that?"

He pointed to one of the news articles. Kessara squinted at the headline. It was about the Olania assassinations. The then-king, queen, and Crown Prince were all killed in their beds, throats slit. But the youngest prince, only seventeen years old at the time, was untouched. That prince was now King Orion, one of the most beloved rulers in Olanian history.

"Thousands of murders. seven years worth of experience, yet the king still lives..."

Kessara knit her brows.

"Someone like that doesn't just _miss,_ " he continued, eyes flicking back and forth; rereading the article.

Kessara slowly got up from his office chair, the picture finally clearing.

"Are you saying that the _Shadow_ intentionally didn't kill the prince?"

He turned back, confusion clouding his features. "But why didn't he? If he was working for Avalon, the chaos that would ensue from the death of the royals and their only heirs would make it easy to take over Olania. So why would he leave the youngest prince alone?"

Kessara thought for a moment.

"Well, we know that he left her recently, considering the stark lack of murders in the past few weeks. He wouldn't have died since he killed that couple in Luelle. Avalon did something to make him leave..." she trailed off, an idea forming in her mind. "What if she was always torturing him? What if he was a slave to her and couldn't escape? Maybe leaving the prince alive was his way of fighting back. Maybe he saw an opening to escape, and took it?"

Zephyr went silent, pondering her proposal. "But that doesn't explain why he murdered that couple two days ago."

Kessara pursed her lips. "You're right. That murder, that's the key to all of this. It's different. We just have to figure out what it means."

Zephyr nodded, turning his gaze back on the case board. "We have a name; we have a face. We just need to catch this guy."

Kessara stood up from his chair steeling her expression to a look of pure determination, despite her nervous jitters. "Then let's get out there."

She walked around the desk to the door and opened it, marching out of the room, the clicking of her boot heels on the hard wood floor calling the attention of all the soldiers in the room. They all instantly stood at attention, facing her; chests puffed out, chins high, arms stiff at their sides.

"Commander!" they saluted.

She inclined her chin, placing her arms behind her back.

"Men," she smirked. "We are catching the _Shadow_ today."

They all grinned, relaxing slightly.

Kessara willed her face into a cold, emotionless expression. A look of pure power.

"Listen up!" she barked. "We have a name; Jett Wisescar. Keep your eyes and ears open, listen to anyone mention that name. I want undercover Sergeants at every exit, looking for someone with dark hair and blue eyes with a large facial scar through his left eye. They have to be inconspicuous; we don't want Wisescar to spook and run. No Deputies; they're too new and inexperienced." She shot them all a warning look. "If Wisescar really is the _Shadow_ , he has ten years of killing experience under his belt. He'll be able to take you down without breaking a sweat. Be careful, do not engage unless you have backup. If you can, try to bring him to the stationhouse. If you can't, send a signal to either Marshal Rockshade or I with his location. We will be patrolling the city along with the Deputies. Deputies, you will be undercover as well. You are not to talk to anyone suspicious; your only job is to be our eyes and ears. If you spot him, send us a message. Is that clear?"

"Yes Commander!"

"Good. Get to work"

***************

"What's your power, Marshal?" Kessara asked Zephyr. They'd been walking through the busiest city streets for hours now, chasing dead-end leads. Kessara was getting frustrated. She'd felt like she was so close just a few hours ago, but now she felt like she still had a mountain ahead of her. Khelsia was such a massive city; he could be anywhere. Or nowhere; he might have skipped town yesterday and this whole search was for nothing.

She glanced at him. He avoided her gaze.

"Infernokinetic," he mumbled.

Infernokinetic? She'd never heard of that before.

"What is that?"

He flinched at the question.

"I'm the only one in Orbis who is one. I doubt you've heard of it."

Kessara narrowed her eyes, remembering the fiasco with Schumacher and the _histrionis._

"You still haven't answered my question."

He took a deep, heaving breath.

"I control demon energy like you control ethereal energy."

Kessara's blood ran cold. That's the power she'd predicted the _Shadow_ to have. But Zephyr Rockshade wasn't the _Shadow,_ was he?

She stopped dead, slowly moving her hand on the hilt of her gold knife. "You've been hunting the _Shadow_ for years, right?"

He turned back around; eyebrows raised. He took a step back when he noticed where her hand was.

"Yes. Commander, I am definitely _not_ the _Shadow_."

"Your power is the same as the one I predicted the _Shadow_ to have."

He put his hands up in a surrender.

"I have a different theory."

"And that is?"

"He controls pure darkness."

Kessara removed her hand from the hilt of her dagger. "Darkness? How did you come up with that?"

Zephyr motioned for her to follow him before turning back and heading toward one of the tiny side streets. She followed, keeping her hand within quick reach of her knife. He lead her just into the mouth of it, so they were still mere meters from the main road. He spoke in a low whisper.

"You and I are complete opposites. I control the energy of the Pit, you control the energy of the Heavens. But there's another dimension in our universe."

Kessara frowned.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

Zephyr glanced behind him, before speaking again. What was he so afraid of?

"I was told this by an Oracle; and only four people know of its existence. Five, if you include the _Shadow_. Me, Queen Saphira, Empress Avalon, and the faerie queen Onagh."

Oracles were incredibly rare, only a few people have seen them, and fewer still had prophecies told to them. If one was destined for a prophecy, the oracle would come to them. How Zephyr Rockshade came across one, she had no idea. But she got the feeling he was going to be an important chess piece in the war to come. Kessara's mind raced, patterns and puzzle pieces forming and clicking into place. Questions without answers, answers with no known meaning, snippets of information clicking into place.

"How do you know of the faerie queen's existence?" she hissed.

"The Oracle told me. She said the dimension that no one knows about is called Limbo, and it's where those who are too evil for Etherea but too good for Zanhara. It is a place of pure darkness, where souls go to wander the darkness for eternity."

Darkness. It made sense; the untraceable knives, slipping in and out of houses completely undetected... of course Avalon would want someone of that power on her side. But why not someone like Zephyr? He could control her demon army, perhaps make them stronger the way she could make herself and Moonbeam stronger.

"How many people know about your powers, Zephyr?"

He swallowed hard.

"My old Marshal knew before his death. And before that, my childhood best friend. He..." Zephyr swallowed again. "He's gone too. So as of now, just you."

Kessara nodded. "On my way here, I came across a pack of demons talking to Avalon through a mirror. She kept telling them to find her 'sanctus'. She said that the 'General' is one of them, and so am I. I think her General is the _Shadow_. She said that she needs all three to open the portal to Zanhara to release Diabolis. So if I'm the only one who knows, lets keep it that way. Because if what your saying is true, and the _Shadow_ had pure darkness as his powers, it could mean that you are the third sanctus. It could mean that she'll be coming after you next."

Zephyr took a step back, brown eyes clouded with fear. "Man, I just wanted to catch a serial killer. I didn't sign up for this crap."

Kessara huffed a bitter laugh. "Tell me about it. What do your soldiers think your power is?"

"I told them I was a lumenokinetic to cover up the red light."

"Smart. Keep that lie. Don't tell _anyone_ about your powers."

"Ay ay, captain- err, Commander."

Kessara shook her head.

"Lets just find this guy."

It was pitch dark outside by the time she decided to call in the search for the night. She'd ordered the Sergeants to continue waiting at every entrance and exit, rotating shifts every four hours. The _Shadow_ seemed to like to come out at night, so she wasn't taking any chances. But personally, she was exhausted.

Kessara was walking alone down the formerly busy main street back to her hotel. It still had people, mostly just packing up their carts and restocking their goods for the next day. The street was very dimly lit by the oil lamps that hung from some of the booths. She had already tripped over potholes in the dirt road multiple times. But after what she'd learned about the sanctus and how Avalon was looking for her, she didn't want to summon an orb of glowing ethereal energy to light her path, for fear it would give her away. Not that people didn't already know her powers. She hoped the darkness hid her features well enough as she continued.

Just before she was about to give up and summon it anyway, a loud crash had her whipping her head to her left, hand flying to her gold dagger. Down a connecting street, tin garbage cans had just hit the floor, and a dark shape, like a cloud of darkness, disappeared around a corner into a side ally.

Kessara's heart flew into her throat. Was this it? Was this the _Shadow_ at last?

She took off down the street at a sprint, willing her footfalls to stay silent as a cat's. She refused to lose this chase. She veered left onto the connecting street, silently thanking the Goddess for the stark lack of potholes on the road, and within milliseconds, she made it to the garbage cans, and right next to them, the side ally. The paper garbage bag had ripped in the fall, and the putrid stench of garbage had her wrinkling her nose in disgust. But she had bigger things on her mind.

Kessara had no idea what she was going to walk into once she entered the ally. But she didn't have much time to ponder battle strategies; not when that black cloud had looked so eager to escape. She bent her knees, dropping into a shallow squat, putting a hand on her dagger, and walked in to the ally.


	22. Chapter 22

Kessara could barely see in the intense darkness of the Olanian alley. Olania wasn't exactly a wealthy country, so streetlights were hardly a priority for King Orion. The only light came from the faint glow of oil lamps in the upstairs windows of the overcrowded apartments. But Kessara didn't dare form a sphere of glowing energy; not when she needed to be stealthy.

She crept silently through the alley in a sort of sideways shuffle, one hand on the hilt of her gold dagger jammed into her hip holster, the other straight out in front of her, feeling around for anything she might bump into. She kept her knees bent, tipped slightly forward at the hips; her ready position. Her heart pounded, her hands shook, but she tried to remember her training. _Slow your breathing, relax your muscles_. And soon, the roaring in her ears had quieted, and her hands stilled

Kessara could've sworn that black shape had disappeared around this corner, but it wasn't much good looking for a black shape in the dark. But the shape had mass, it had knocked into those trash cans, meaning it could be fought. It could bleed. She hoped against hope that the shape was the _Shadow_ , but as of now, a whole five minutes into her search, she was still coming up empty. But she couldn't give up now, not when she was so _close._ And so, she continued her silent trek through the narrow alley.

There. Up ahead, near where the ally met another, somehow narrower alley, she sensed movement. She moved faster, gripping the hilt of her dagger even tighter until she was at a brisk jog, racing toward the intersection.

Just as her foot stepped into the intersection, she felt strong fingers grab her upper arm and yank her to her right. She didn't even have time to yelp before the other hand clamped over her mouth, firmly pinning her to the wall. But she was fast too. Quicker than a striking snake, she yanked a thread of ethereal energy down from the sky, formed it into a glowing blue dagger, and putting it to the throat of her captor; right as she felt something bone-chillingly cold up against her own.

"I heard you were looking for me, Kessara Blackrose." Her captor's breath was surprisingly warm against her cheek. A male voice, deep and rough around the edges. She could hear the smirk in his words. Her heart stopped.

" _Commander_ Kessara Blackrose." She kneed him between the legs, and he yelped, dropping to his knees on the ground. The cold disappeared from her throat as he did so. It was still extremely dark, so her only view was the faint yellow glow of the candles in surrounding house windows and her glowing blue dagger. She pulled back her elbow and punched him in the jaw – well, almost. He was lightning fast, and dove out of the way, effectively trying to knock her off balance; but Kessara was too smart for that. She hit the air where his face used to be, but she used the momentum to lift her back leg up and drive her heel into his face. But he sidestepped, grabbing her leg and twisting, flipping her entire body over and slamming her back into the ground. Rocks dug into her spine and she hissed at the pain, but his legs tangled expertly in hers, a submission hold making it nearly impossible to escape. Nearly.

"Easy, tiger," he purred.

The icy coldness returned to her neck, but she matched it with a glowing dagger of her own. But this time, she felt different. Usually, ethereal energy felt like an extension of herself; she could bend and shape it at will. But here, with this stranger, she felt a physical resistance, like when you try to push two of the same magnets together.

"What the hell?" she breathed. Her muscles strained to keep the glowing dagger at his throat.

"I don't-" the stranger said. Judging by the shaking of his hands, he was experiencing the same thing she was.

Despite her confusion, Kessara took his second hesitation as an opportunity to dig the heel of her leather boot into the sensitive tendon in the back his ankle. He cried out and released the hold on her legs, and she flipped him over, straddling his hips and putting her ethereal dagger to his jugular.

"The _Shadow_. I finally found you."

Kessara willed the light emitting from her knife to grow, and in the gleam, she finally saw his face. But what she saw shocked her enough to give him enough time to make an icy dagger of his own. He slammed the blade against hers, but as soon as their blades met, Kessara felt a yank in her core and the knives...disintegrated?

They both scrambled to their feet, but before the _Shadow_ could escape, Kessara reached her arms up to the sky and pulled down as much ethereal energy as she could in a split second, throwing up powerful blue force fields that blocked all points of escape. She'd locked the two of them in a box of ethereal energy, although after what just happened with their knives, she doubted their effectiveness. But when she was tangling with one of the most prolific serial killers in Orbis history, she couldn't be too careful.

She willed the glowing blue walls to glow brighter, illuminating the space as if lit by the sun, and in it, she could really study the _Shadow_.

He was tall and lean, with wide shoulders and narrow hips. Built like a spy, not a soldier. He was lean enough to squeeze into tight places but strong enough to cut through whatever he'd meet on the other side. He wore a tattered deep green jerkin over a skin-tight black shirt, with long black pants that cinched around the ankles. Around his waist was a brown leather belt; jammed in which were twin gold daggers. Pinned to his brown leather jacket was a long black cloak that hung down to heels of his black leather boots. The pin was broken however. Where a seal or crest should've been, just a circular frame remained. On his hands he wore worn leather gloves; no doubt another measure to hide his identity. Around his neck hung a black handkerchief that must've fallen off during their struggle. Now, she could see his entire face. Through her research, Kessara expected him to be in his mid-thirties. But looking at his face, he looked to be barely twenty-two, twenty-three. That's what had shocked her the most. She couldn't get over how young he was. If he was really responsible for all these high-profile murders in the past ten years, he would've only been twelve years old when Avalon took him in. When he had his first kill.

He had a handsome face; chiseled jawline and cheekbones, perfectly symmetrical and clean shaven. But his skin was extremely pale, his cheeks sunken, which made his raven-black hair, close cut on the sides and longer at the top, so much so that it fell into his eyes, stand out all the more. His eyes...they were icy blue, so blue that they seemed to glow. Framed by thick, dark eyelashes, his stare seemed to bore straight into her soul. But the part that stood out the most was a thick, white scar that ran from his hairline to his jaw, straight through his left eye.

Kessara was speechless. It was him, Jett Wisescar. It was the man from Warren's vision. It was _him_. She honestly felt a little starstruck.

He began to circle her, the laziness of his gait matching his smile, and she matched his pace, forming a long sword from the excess ethereal energy that radiated from the walls and aiming it at his chest. Just because he was younger than she thought, didn't mean he was any less dangerous.

The corners of his mouth twitched into a smirk; his scar twisting on his face.

" _Commander_ Kessara Blackrose; the second most powerful sorceress in Orbis."

Kessara snarled at the 'second most powerful' part. He smirked again.

"I've heard many stories. Bit of a mouthful, don't you think?" he pulled one of his twin golden daggers from his belt and sliced through a loose thread on his green jerkin. No doubt a power display; wanting her to be intimidated by his skill with knives. Well she wasn't falling for it. He mouthed the entirety of her title again. "Can I call you 'Kess'?"

"Absolutely not."

"Okay Kess." He twirled the knife in his fingers before slipping it back into his belt, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "What do you want from me? Why have you spent the last month searching for me?"

Kessara bristled at the nickname. "You already know the answer to that."

He cocked his head, his icy eyes boring into her with a gaze that reminded her of the way a cat toys with its food before pouncing. "The war. You want me to fight for Cygnis. You really think I would fight for the opposite side?"

It was not a rhetorical question.

Kessara waved her blue sword toward his face. She was not to be toyed with. "How did you get that scar?" She caught the way his throat bobbed. Kessara took a few steps toward him. He didn't budge, but his smile faltered. "I've heard stories too. You already betrayed your country by leaving. You betrayed your country three years ago when you left the prince of Olania alive. You didn't want to fight for the wrong side. I'm here to offer you a place fighting for the right side. You would be an automatic equal to myself; a Commander for Queen Saphira. Your record cleaned. You would be welcomed into the castle with your own quarters. All we ask is your submission the queen's command. You would fight under Cygnis against Arisia."

The _Shadow_ was silent for a moment; pondering her offer.

"And if I refuse?" he asked.

Kessara steeled her expression, and raised her sword to his throat. "Then I kill you where you stand."

He nodded. "Good strategy."

She inclined her head.

He studied her, and Kessara schooled her features into neutrality under his piercing stare.

"I accept your offer."

She blinked. "Seriously?"

He chuckled, removed his glove, and put out his hand. "My name is River Lockwood."

Kessara's blood ran cold. _No..._

"River Lockwood," she repeated, needing to hear it again. To make sure.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

She stepped closer still, changing her sword into a longsword so the tip hovered just at the hollow of his throat. He put his hands up in a surrender.

"As in, the son of Rohana and Jako Lockwood?" she demanded.

She watched his chest heave in a deep breath, the amused cockiness in his eyes fading to something...different. Anger, maybe. Sorrow, just as likely. Savannah would have known.

"Yes," he said quietly.

Kessara's thoughts raced. That woman in Luelle told her about the Lockwood family, how their older son died, how they shipped off their youngest son to the mainland because they couldn't stand seeing his face. That son was standing in front of her right now. That son that they abandoned was now accredited with thousands of murders, a pawn for the Dark Queen.

"You killed your parents." She couldn't honestly justify, nor reject it. Not after what they did to him.

He tilted his head to the side again, studying her with his icy eyes.

"Do you know the story?" he asked.

"They abandoned you after your twin brother's death. They shipped you off here on your sixth birthday after you didn't show."

River smiled bitterly. "That's not all."

Kessara frowned, lowering her sword slightly.

"Tell me the rest, then."

His expression changed briefly, so quick that she barely caught it. Shock. Like he'd never been asked about himself before.

"You're right; they did ship me off the evening of what would have been our sixth birthday after I didn't show. They sent me here, to this place, at six years old. They sent me here to die. I lived on the streets for years, slowly staving to death, living on bread scraps from garbage and whatever I could beg for. I nearly died, over and over again." He took a step closer to her, and she shortened her sword. "Do you know what that's like? To nearly starve to death? It's hell. First, your head gets cloudy. You can't think, can't concentrate on anything. Next, you lose weight, so much that your bones seem to cut you, they jut out so far,"

Kessara knew the feeling, she knew it too well. Flashbacks of her own time on the streets, begging for food, going days, weeks without so much as a scrap, gripped her.

"Stop," she breathed. But he didn't. He took another step toward her, and she raised her sword to his throat.

"You start getting cold. Nothing can warm you up, not fires, not blankets. Its this deep cold, in your bones. And then the nausea hits." He huffed a bitter laugh. "A little strange, being nauseous when your starving to death?"

"That's _enough,_ " she snapped. Kessara didn't want to relive that horrible time in her life, not when she spent so long trying to forget it.

He narrowed his eyes. He could tell, he could tell that she understood. But, thank the Goddess, he didn't comment on it.

"It was one day later that I discovered my power. _One_ day. If they had just waited one day before abandoning me, I wouldn't have gone through any of it. One day, and they would have realized that their son was the most powerful sorcerer alive."

"Second."

River raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Second. You were the second most powerful sorcerer alive," Kessara said sweetly.

He slowly gave her an incredulous smile.

"Oh, Kess. We're going to have so much fun on our _long_ journey back."

But Kessara wasn't done.

"You killed them for it. But why wait so long to do it? Have you not been free for almost two months now?"

River didn't hesitate before answering.

"I needed to lay low for a while. Avalon put out a nation-wide search for me, and I couldn't go back there."

Kessara squinted at him. "And now you want to join the right side."

"I'm on the side of freedom. Avalon takes freedom, and your queen sounds like she gives it. So yes, I want to join your side."

"So, you were a prisoner in Zulvalar? You never wanted to kill all those people?" Kessara asked.

His throat bobbed again, and he spoke in a hoarse whisper. "Never. I never wanted to kill anybody."

Much to her surprise, Kessara believed him. She could hear the sincerity in his voice. She didn't trust him, but she also believed that he wouldn't try to kill her in her sleep. At least, she hoped he wouldn't.

She opened her sword-hand and let the glowing blue energy dissipate back up to Etherea, before stretching out her arm.

"Pleasure to meet you, River Lockwood."

He glanced at her hand, almost incredulously, but took it anyway.

"The pleasure is all mine."

His grip was firm, and when he removed his hand, she noticed a large, red brand going across his entire palm. It was in the shape of an eye, so realistic that it almost looked like it could blink. Weird. He noticed her gaze, and quickly put his glove back on. 


	23. Chapter 23

"When do we leave?" River Lockwood asked.

"Tonight," Kessara replied. She stretched her arms out to the sides, curling her hands into fists. She felt the ethereal energy from the shields concentrate into her closed fingers, and once she felt every bit of it had gone, she threw her arms up and sent it back into the heavens in a spinning column of blue light.

"Impressive," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Lets just go back to my hotel room."

He smirked. "Wow, you're forward."

Kessara bristled. This was going to be a _long_ journey back.

"Oh come ooon Kess," River whined, "you're no fun if I can't tease you."

Her nostrils flared. "Get. Moving. Both of our lives are on the line here."

He whirled on her; eyebrow raised. "Why is your life on the line? I mean, I know that mine is, but you are the highest ranking and second most powerful sorceress in the world. Who would want to kill you?"

She wanted to eat her words right then. Now he had leverage; her own life. But she couldn't go back now. Maybe her own predicament would appeal to his sense of humanity. She knew had had some; he was genuine when he said he never wanted to hurt anybody.

"My queen gave me an ultimatum."

His icy eyes narrowed. "Find me, or die."

She nodded. "So, I guess we both have something to gain from getting our asses back to the Caelum City."

"I guess we do."

**********************

This complicates things. River assumed he could just convince her to head further west toward the Malum Woods and ultimately to the faerie queen, but now her life was on the line. She would not go west without a fight, and he couldn't exactly drag one of the most powerful sorcerers in Orbis before the queen by himself. She already kicked his ass, and he had no doubt she could do it again. No, the only way to do this was to drag her into one of the smaller entrances along the way back to Cygnis.

They were all marked with bluebells, and there were many of them along the way. But River had no doubt Kess would be sleeping with one eye open until she trusted that he wouldn't slit her throat in the middle of the night. She was too smart for that, he could tell. So, he would have to gain her trust first; become her friend. The window would be tight, but he was confident he could pull her into the bluebells before his time was up.

But she would die. He knew the faerie queen wouldn't let her out of her realm alive. Hell, she didn't let _him_ out without a death sentence. And he swore, he swore as soon as he set foot outside Nox Palace that he wouldn't kill another person for as long as he lived. Bringing Kessara Blackrose before the faerie queen would be signing her death sentence.

However, if he didn't, he would be signing his own. A month out of his two-month sentence was already up, but he knew that the journey back to the city was about just under four weeks.

He had a tough decision to make: himself, or her.

********************

Kessara unlocked her hotel room door, holding it open so River could walk in.

His icy eyes scanned the room; no doubt looking for hidden weapons, hiding spots, escape routes. Just like she did when she first came in.

She watched him carefully, her hand habitually in reach of her gold dagger.

River's eyes locked onto a spot on the carpet. A red spot.

"Is that blood?"

Kessara pressed her lips together. He knew what blood looked like; she couldn't lie to him about that.

"Yes."

"Does it have anything to do with the scratches on your neck?"

Kessara stiffened. How-how did he know? When she'd looked at the wounds on her neck that morning, they were near invisible with the help of the ointment. She'd even turned her collar up slightly to hide the remnants. He was incredibly observant, and she didn't know how she felt about it. She certainly wasn't looking forward to him reading her like an open book for the rest of their journey.

"Come on, Kess! You know my deepest, darkest, family secret, we've gotta be even," River flashed a grin that made the scar through his eye twist, "can't let you have all the leverage."

Kessara snarled at the nickname. "Fine. I have nightmares that feel a little too real sometimes. That's all you get to know."

She stalked over to the bed and grabbed her bags; throwing one over her shoulder and looping the other under her arm.

"Do you-" she turned around to find him studying her, icy blue eyes burning holes into her own. They were filled with...well, she couldn't place it. But they had lost the mocking humor, replaced with something older, deeper.

"What?" she demanded.

He seemed to shake himself, going back to the usual cocky smirk.

"Do you want some help?"

Kessara blinked. "What?"

"Do you want help," he repeated, "with your bags."

"Don't you have your own bags?"

He shrugged. "I pack light."

She raised an eyebrow, shooting a pointed look to the distinct lack of pockets in his cloak.

"Right."

Kessara marched over to him and dumped her heavier bag into his arms, giving him a mocking pat on the shoulder, her hand met with rock hard muscle, before striding for the door. She resisted the urge to flinch. River was strong; it just made him harder to control. But she played along with his teasing, hoping a sort of friendship would keep her throat intact in the coming weeks. He gave her an incredulous look, like he couldn't believe she'd actually taken him up on his offer. Kessara smiled. She was gaining power.

"Thanks. Follow me."

He mumbled something under his breath. She whirled around and shot him her best death stare, and he threw his free arm up in a surrender before throwing her bag over his shoulder. Kessara smiled sweetly, turning on her heel and walking out the door.

River walked like a cat; completely silently. The only indication that he was still behind her was the slight swish of his long cloak as he heels hit it.

"Sooo... are you gonna tell me where we're going?" he asked, falling into step beside her.

"The stables. Do you have a horse?"

He smirked. "Why? Wanna share?"

"I'd rather tie you up and drag you behind me."

He shrugged. "Sounds fun."

Kessara just shook her head.

"Fine. I don't have a horse yet, but I'll find one."

She shot him a sideways look. "Find one. As in, steal one."

"Well, aren't I a Commander now? I can do whatever I want."

Kessara couldn't help but chuckle.

"Uh, no. You're not fully a Commander until you swear fealty to the queen."

River gave her a mock-pouty face, but fell silent at her side. Good, maybe she could finally hear herself think. It seemed like he never shut up.

River was certainly charming, but it made her suspicious. Ever since they'd shook hands back in that alley less than an hour ago, a small itch in the back of her mind nagged that it was too easy. He'd answered too quickly when she asked why he would so readily switch sides in the war, and given her a non-answer at that. _I'm on the side of freedom._ The point of the war was to fight for freedom, but as soon as soldiers step out onto that battlefield, they lose their freedom. They become prisoners, prisoners of their minds. Kessara certainly didn't feel free.

She knew what River was doing. Trying to be funny and charismatic, trying to be her friend and gain her trust. She'd made a career out of trusting her instinct, and right now, her instinct was telling her there was something bigger going on. He wouldn't agree to switch sides just because he thought her queen offered freedom. He stood to gain something else from this whole deal. She just had to figure out what, and how to keep herself and her country out of it.

Soon enough, they made it to the stables. She hadn't seen Moonbeam since that morning, and his big brown eyes lit up when he saw her.

He pawed at the stall door, whinnying in greeting.

"Hey buddy!" she smiled, rubbing Moonbeam's nose. He shoved it, snot and all, into her cloak; no doubt looking for treats.

"Wait, no, stop-"

Too late. He'd already left a big green smear of snot on her black shirt.

"Dammit. Seriously, horse?"

He just snorted, not looking sorry in the slightest.

"That's cute. Now, can we go please?" River's deep voice cut through her cuddle-fest with her horse, sounding irritated.

Kessara turned around and tilted her head in curiosity. On the surface, he looked casual as anything, with his hip cocked out and arms crossed. But Kessara could see how tightly he was clenching his jaw, even in the dim glow of the moonlight. He was stressed about something, and Kessara did not like that. Whatever his ulterior motive was, it had something to do with Khelsia.

"Why are you so eager to go all of a sudden?" she asked coolly.

"I just hate this place. Bad memories, ya'know?"

Oh, she knew the feeling. But that wasn't why he was so anxious. He was a good liar, but part of her job was to catch liars.

She let the silence hang for a few moments between them, just to see if he would try to fill it and perhaps give more information, but River stayed quiet. He knew what she was doing, Kessara could tell.

"Are you going to find a horse?"

He jerked his chin toward the stall next to Moonbeam's, and she turned around to get a closer look. In it was a black shadow in the corner, the only hint that it was a horse being the glint of the moonlight off its fur, much like how it glinted off River's raven-black hair.

"She's gorgeous, no?"

He strode past her to the stall door, and clicked his tongue at the horse. And out of the darkness stepped the most beautiful mare Arabian mare Kessara had ever seen. She was sleek and elegant, with shimmering midnight-black fur that seemed to blend seamlessly into the darkness of the stall. Her head was small and dainty, with a curved-in nose and wide, dark eyes, which matched her long, narrow legs. In a way, the mare reminded Kessara of River, with the jet-black hair and elegant stature, so she could see why he was attracted to her.

"She is."

River gently ran his fingers down the black mare's nose, and she watched him in silence, almost like she was studying him with her dark, intelligent eyes. He took a step back, placing a hand on his hip.

"What should I call her?"

Kessara nodded toward the black leather tack hanging on the hook next to the stall.

"She might already have a name."

He snapped his fingers. "You, my dear, are a genius."

Kessara stiffened. _My dear._ How dare he...

"Do _not_ , call me, 'my dear'," she warned, eyes flashing.

He threw his hands up in a surrender, but his smirk was anything but apologetic.

"Sorry Kess, forgot about the whole Commander thing."

Kessara snarled at the nickname, but went back to tying the straps of her bags on her saddle. River sauntered over to the tack and rummaged through, checking all the tags.

"Reverie," he said. "That's her name."

Kessara shrugged. "Pretty name. Now start tacking her up before I turn you in to the stationhouse for horse theft."

She glanced up at him, expecting a smirk or a smart-ass retort, but surprisingly, he just clenched his jaw even tighter. Hm, interesting. He had some sort of history with the Khelsia stationhouse, or the people within it. She tucked the snippet of intel into the back of her mind.


	24. Chapter 24

After a few minutes of loaded silence as they both finished tacking up their horses, Kessara and River were finally ready to leave for the docks.

They rode stride in stride, River's stolen mare walking almost as silently as he, much unlike Moonbeam who clomped lazily along the dirt path. Their conversations mostly consisted of River asking her what life was like at the Cobalt Castle, what the queen was like, what her job was. He'd complained when she informed him that he would have to teach classes, and groaned when she told him about the mountain of paperwork she had to do as a Commander, but his icy eyes seemed to glow with excitement at the prospect. That confused her.

Kessara was still trying to figure out his motive. He definitely stood to gain something else from this exchange, but looking excited about teaching and paperwork was new to her. If he really was being genuine about wanting to be on the side of freedom, he must have had a hell of a time with Avalon if the prospect of creating and signing hundreds of reports was appealing.

Nevertheless, she couldn't say she completely despised his presence, although calling her 'Kess' was certainly grating on her nerves.

The streets were near silent, considering it was about three in the morning, so they had an easy path to the docks. But once the dock came into view, she noticed someone was standing there. Someone with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to the elbows and a cobalt blue cape pinned over his left shoulder with a silver pin that glinted in the moonlight.

Marshal Zephyr Rockshade. She'd forgotten about him.

She glanced beside her, and nearly had a heart attack when she realized River wasn't there. Thankfully, he was only a few meters behind her, but something was wrong. He had a death grip on the reins, back rigid and icy eyes wide.

"Are you okay?" she whispered, "you don't look so good."

He kept his eyes locked on the figure. "Fine. Just, don't tell him my name."

Kessara frowned. "What, why?"

River tore his gaze away from the figure long enough to give her a look of pure desperation.

"Please. Just use my alias, please."

Kessara narrowed her eyes, wondering what the hell his history was with Zephyr, but nodded anyway. He was her future co-worker, she needed to gain his trust somehow.

He gave her a small, grateful smile, one of the few genuine expressions she'd seen him make, before pulling his handkerchief around his nose to cover his identity. Whatever his deal was with Zephyr, it was personal.

They continued to the dock, and as they neared, Kessara noticed that Zephyr was not alone. He was joined by four other Sergeants, all guarding the dock, which was roped off. Burned into the wood were sigils and runes, wards for evil. The Sergeants stood at the ready, hands in reach of their swords, and some casting shielding spells along the border of the city.

Kessara's heart started to pound. Something was very wrong.

"Zephyr, what's going on?" she demanded. She could almost feel River's flinch at Zephyr's name. Interesting...

She quickly dismounted Moonbeam, handing the reins to a nearby Sergeant and striding over to meet him.

His previously bright amber eyes were now dark and clouded with worry, but they seemed to light up when he saw River astride the black horse next to her.

"Is that...is that the _Shadow_?"

Kessara huffed a breath. "Yes, Jett Wisescar. Now answer my question."

Zephyr looked incredulous, eyes scanning River and locking on to the black handkerchief hiding his face.

"Are you taking him back to be hanged?"

Kessara flinched at the word, fingers fluttering to her neck and the scratches that his behind her collar.

"No. The queen wants him to help fight the war. He has agreed to the terms and is coming back alive. Now, if you do not answer my question, I will drown you in this canal."

Zephyr took a step back, and River hid a snicker. Zephyr shot him a murderous look.

"We have received word from the front lines that the Kraken Cove has been taken by Avalon's forces. We're the only ones guarding the canal. The only way back across to the Eastern Continent is-"

"-through the Dead Zone," Kessara finished. "By the Goddess..."

The Dead Zone was the most dangerous passage across the Aspero Channel. It was said no ship ever came out the same it entered, and that was if it even made it out at all. It was an area infested with all sorts of dangerous creatures, and the thick fog made it near impossible to navigate. Only the bravest, or dumbest, captains sailed those treacherous waters. The Dead Zone was the widest part of the Aspero Channel, but time passed differently there. A journey like that should take upwards of ten days, but it seemed to only take captains under a week to travel from coast to coast. If Kessara wanted to be fast, the Dead Zone was the way to go. But if she needed a guarantee that she would live, the long way across the Mori passage and through the Kraken Cove was her only option.

Of course, now both situations were equally deadly. She could either battle her way through hoards of demons in the Kraken Cove, or take her chances with the infamously dangerous Dead Zone.

Kessara took a deep, calming breath, and thought hard.

"You can take all the Sergeants and Deputies from the other exits out of Khelsia and place them along the Crystal Canal as we've already found Wisescar. Most of the Olanian forces are with Cygnis soldiers on the Arisian border, but you can send a flare to King Orion to ask for use of his royal guard to protect the city. I'm sure he'll agree. If you need to, gather civilian sorcerers and human fighters to help in the war. Once I return to the Caelum City, I will send our remaining soldiers, spies and captains to fight the battle in the Kraken Cove."

Zephyr gave her a goofy salute. "Great idea, Commander."

He ordered one of his men to send a flare to the King, and another to gather the rest of the Sergeants and Deputies to the Crystal Canal, before beginning battle strategizing with the remaining two.

"And we," she turned to River, steeling her expression, "are heading to the Dead Zone."

He gave her a nod, icy eyes flashing, and turned his horse northward. Kessara went to retrieve her reins and pulled down her stirrup.

"Commander!" Zephyr's voice stopped her. He jogged over, blue cape swishing, and held out a hand.

"Good luck in the Dead Zone. Make it out alive, okay?"

Kessara smiled, and shook his hand. "Thank you. And prepare yourself; this battle is just the beginning. War is upon us."

He squeezed her hand, before saluting again and returning to his men.

Kessara took a deep breath, steeling her nerves, and mounted Moonbeam.

"Let's go," she said, hoping her voice didn't sound as shaken as she felt.

"Let's," was his only reply.

She dug her heels into Moonbeam's side, and took off toward the only bridge across the Crystal Canal.

***************

In order to get to Maior, the only town with a dock in the Dead Zone, they had to travel north through the Olanian Fascinare Forest, and then along the Arisian Coast toward the battlefront. It was a long journey, about twelve days long, so Kessara had no time to waste. The Fascinare forest would take about a week to get through, considering it was known for being one of the densest woods on the Western Continent. Arisia has been a wasteland since Avalon took over, nothing but fields blackened by demon fire and lonely dirt roads. As horrible as it was, the lack of obstacles made for faster travel.

Just on the other side of the bridge stood the Fascinare Forest, famous for its high vampire population. The trees weren't bright and gloomy like Wild Country, or thick and twisted like the jungle on Calams Isle. In fact, they were quite ordinary pine and spruce trees, albeit tightly packed together. So tight, in fact, that the ground was bathed in shadows, and Kessara wondered how her chubby horse would fare navigating the maze.

Kessara sat down hard and pulled up, and Moonbeam skidded to a halt at the border, just past the mouth of the bridge. River halted right next to her, eyes scanning the woods. He was probably thinking the same thing she was, how dark it was, especially at three in the morning.

He shot her a smug look.

"Don't worry, Kess. I've got this covered."

He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and closed his eyes. He curled his scar-flecked fingers into fists, and she watched as the raised veins in his forearms turned black, like someone had spilled ink on him. He opened his eyes, and Kessara recoiled at the loss of the near-glowing blue, replaced by a void of black. But, before her, a small path began to clear, marked by the distinct lack of darkness. Fascinating. Where she would've used her glow to illuminate the path, he just... removed the darkness.

"Impressive."

She caught the way his mouth twitched in a smile.

"After you," he gestured a black-veined hand toward the path.

And so, she squeezed Moonbeam's sides and set off, Reverie's near-silent hoofbeats thudding behind her.

It truly was captivating, walking through a shadowless path. The scenery almost looked like an unfinished painting, where the artist forgot to shade the places where darkness should be. There was no light, just the absence of darkness.

Kessara wove through the trees, keeping her reins tight to maintain the most control she could in the dense forest, much to Moonbeam's annoyance. She ducked as a particularly low branch almost struck her in the face. Finding a place to camp out here would certainly be a challenge.

"Tell me when you need a break," she called over her shoulder. Even from behind her, she could hear his scoff.

"I'm the most powerful sorcerer in Orbis; I don't need breaks."

"Second most powerful. And everyone needs breaks."

River laughed, a deep hearty sound. He had one of those contagious laughs; genuine and bright. _Like Savannah's laugh_ , she thought.

"So, Kess. Tell me about yourself," he said casually.

Kessara snorted. "Whoa, there. I don't do the whole backstory thing, especially when I know nothing about yours."

The path widened, and River pulled up beside her. His hands were still black, the black veins in his forearms as dark as ever against his porcelain white skin. He studied her with eyes like the void. As much as he hated his icy blue stare, she certainly preferred it to this empty darkness.

"Fine, how about we make a deal? You get to ask me any question you want, and in exchange, I get to do the same."

Kessara thought for a moment. She knew he was trying to get to know her more, to gather intel about her just like she was with him. This whole game was a lot different when the other person knew how to play. But, if it kept her throat intact and gave her some intel of her own, she could make this deal with him.

"And," he clarified, "you _have_ to answer. No chickening out."

Kessara rolled her eyes.

"Deal."

He smirked, the scar on his face twisting. And then he went silent, no doubt thinking of the most probing, invasive question he could. It seemed like something he would do.

Just as she was about to start fidgeting under the pregnant silence, he asked his question.

"What do you dream about, that makes you scratch the skin off your neck?"

Kessara's chest tightened. Of course, she should've known he would ask that. She exhaled slowly, working up the nerve to say it aloud.

"I went to war when I was seventeen, fighting on the front lines. I saw a lot of horrors, demons killing my men by the thousand."

She caught his flinch, albeit slight. Hm...

"I have a recurring nightmare about this one day, when this demon plunged his fist through one of my soldier's chest, and ripped his heart from his body." Kessara couldn't supress her shudder. "It was still beating in the demon's hand. But that's not why I scratch my neck."

She took a few more deep breaths.

"You already know my queen threatened my life if I didn't find you. She threatened to hang me at the Gallows. And then Warren-a psychic-followed me for six days to Cantasile to tell me about a vision he had, of me, with a noose around my neck. I dream that I'm being hung, and I claw the skin from my neck because I think that I'm clawing at a rope."

Kessara looked at him, to gauge a reaction. Maybe some semblance of human emotion, but his face was unreadable. His black eyes still looked empty as ever.

"And you stay loyal to this queen? Despite her threatening your life?"

Kessara shook her head. "You already asked your question. Now it's my turn."

The corner of his mouth twitched in a smile.

"You're a smart one, Kess. Go ahead, ask your question."

Hm...what to ask. She could ask him about his relationship with Zephyr; why he got all weird when he saw him standing at the docks. She could also ask him about his real motive, why he was truly switching sides. She could even flat out ask if he planned to kill her, although he had looked genuine when he said he never wanted to hurt anyone. She was really curious about that... if he never wanted to hurt anyone, why did he? What leverage did Avalon have over him? But it seemed like too deep a question, especially since she'd only known him for a few hours. That left her with the obvious choice...

"How did you get that scar on your face?"

River pursed his lips. "Good question, although a little obvious."

Kessara gave him a sickly-sweet smile. "I could say the same thing about yours."

"Fair enough." He inhaled deeply, as if mustering up the courage to answer. Kessara's curiosity was driving her crazy. _Come on,_ she thought, _just answer the question already._

"When I was working for the dark queen, she sent me on missions to gather information. Just about whatever town I went to, who the leader was, to figure out the best way to make it fall." He swallowed hard. "I would usually end up using my looks to casually get information from noble ladies, and noblemen; whoever had the most intel. It worked; people tended to trust a pretty face."

Kessara couldn't honestly say he wasn't pretty. With long, dark lashes framing such bright blue eyes, and flawless skin stretched over chiseled features, River was one of the most beautiful people she'd encountered. It was a completely objective observation, of course.

"But Avalon had this... fascination, with me," he continued, "Which was strange because she took me when I was just eleven years old. When she found out I was flirting and seducing my way to information, she got jealous." He raised a black hand to his face, gingerly running his fingertips over the massive scar. "So, she decided to make me a little less pretty."

In that moment, the empty black void in his eyes filled with something. It looked like, shame. Like he hated the fact that it was there; ashamed that he'd let Avalon do that to him. He shifted his handkerchief to cover the bottom tip of the scar.

Kessara cursed her stupid, empathetic heart. She felt sorry for him, for what he'd endured. She tried to remind herself that he was still one of the most prolific serial killers in Orbis history, but...

"I don't know, it looks pretty badass to me."

River turned to her, the shadows flickering around them like he'd temporarily lost his concentration, looking incredulous. She held his stare, and slowly, his face split into a smile. A real smile, the most genuine expression he'd given so far. Like he couldn't believe that she didn't back away in horror at his face.

"Wow, Kess. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're going soft."

Kessara shook her head. "I am far from soft."


	25. Chapter 25

A few hours later, the visual path was much smaller than it had been, the shadows flickering every few seconds. Although tiny glimmers of light shone through the tightly-packed branches, showing the sun at the height of the morning. Kessara could tell River was exhausting himself, just by how hard he was panting beside her. His black hands shook, his veins bulging out of his forearms. He'd been using his powers non-stop for almost six hours now, but him, being obviously prideful, refused to let her take over.

"Okay that's enough. It's my turn now," she said. She silenced his breathless protest with a death glare, and called down some energy from the heavens, forming it into a glowing blue sphere in her palm. Kessara willed the glow to strengthen, and the heavenly light illuminated the space around them in a fifteen-foot radius. She felt the slight heat in her irises, matching the heat in her glowing blue veins.

Kessara glanced over to River, who had near collapsed into his saddle. The black veins had gone, replaced by porcelain, scar-flecked skin, and his eyes, thankfully, had returned to their original icy blue. His hairline was beaded with sweat, and he raised shaky fingers to his throat to unclasp his long cloak, letting it fall down his shoulders to pool around his hips.

Kessara could tell that he would have been quite muscular, or had been in the past, but she could see the outline of the bones in his shoulders through his black shirt. His hip-bones seemed to jut out of his body, especially with his sunken waistline. For the supposed second strongest sorcerer in the world, he seemed to be quite weak. She wondered when the last time he ate was.

River smirked when he saw her staring. "Notice something you like-"

"Where were you for the past month?" she interrupted.

The smirk disappeared from his face.

"Why do you ask?"

Kessara narrowed her glowing eyes. "You are supposed to be the second most powerful sorcerer in the world, yet you look like you haven't eaten in weeks. Where were you?"

River cocked his head, icy gaze burning holes in her. Oh no, she knew what he was doing; trying to intimidate her into backing off. She wasn't going to let the happen.

She didn't break his stare.

"I had just escaped the castle and Avalon was hunting me. I ran into the Malum Woods to hide, because I knew she wouldn't follow me in there."

Kessara huffed a laugh. "That's funny, because Zulvalar is about two thousand kilometers from the Malum Woods. You wouldn't have had time to escape, travel there, and travel all the way back to Khelsia in less than a month. So, I'm going to ask you again; where. Were. You."

His icy gaze softened, and he looked away.

"I was in the Malum Woods. With the faerie queen."

Kessara's glowing orb flickered as she recoiled. The faerie queen? How, what?

"What were you doing with the faerie queen?" she asked in a low voice.

"Don't get me wrong, I didn't _want_ to go to the faerie queen. She kidnapped me from the woods behind Nox Palace and took me to her realm. She let me stay for a while, but she gave me a weird vibe, so I escaped. Time passes differently in the faerie realm, so the only real journey was from the middle of the Malum woods to Calams Isle, which took exactly a month."

Kessara studied him. He still hadn't answered her question, not fully.

"Why would the faerie queen just let you stay? If the legends are true, she isn't exactly generous."

He shrugged, but years of experience and training told Kessara that it was forced.

"I don't know. If this war reaches her realm, it would be helpful to be friendly with the most powerful sorcerer in the world. Is that not what you are trying to do?"

Oh, he was good. Too good. River was still skirting around the question, answering with a theoretical scenario and a question of his own. Kessara wouldn't answer it, and open herself up to more probing; no, she was asking the questions here.

"Did she offer you a place at her side?"

River shook his head. "No, no, I think she was just feeling me out. And besides, I know better than to make deals with the faerie queen."

Kessara didn't ask him if he'd made a deal, she'd asked him if the queen offered him a position in her court. That made her nervous. Did he make a deal with the queen? And if so, what did he bargain with? He didn't even have his own bags, nor a horse. And more importantly, how did that deal tie in with how quickly he'd agreed to switch sides?

A slight rustle in the trees had them both whipping their heads behind them, but there was nothing there.

The faerie queen kept coming up, it seemed. First with Zephyr, who told her about Limbo, a dimension only he, Avalon, Queen Saphira, and the faerie queen knew about, and then now with River. The faerie queen was going to be an important the player in this war.

But then something else crossed her mind; Warren's vision. Specifically, the unknown woman with snakes for hair.

"What does she look like," she asked, "the faerie queen?"

He clenched his jaw.

"She's beautiful, but terrifying. From a distance, she has this amazing smooth, dark skin and these bright amber eyes. Her hair is white, kinda of wavy, and her voice is smooth like butter. But it's just an illusion. When you concentrate through the haziness in your head, you can see that she actually has slitted pupils like a cat with jagged teeth and a head full of white snakes. Her voice changes to a sort of growl. But the weirdest thing is that she doesn't show any emotion. Her face never changes, except for the odd cunning smile."

Kessara noticed the way his hands tightened ever-so-slightly on Reverie's reins. There was definitely something going on between him and the faerie queen. But snakes for hair... her suspicion was confirmed. The woman in Warren's vision was the faerie queen. She just had to figure out the rest of the clues in the vision. Like who she had been smiling at, and why River's back was a mess of blood, especially considering he looked fine right now.

Hours later, Kessara was starting to feel the exhaustion. She couldn't keep her hands steady, and felt like she couldn't get enough air. The glowing blue orb in her hand was much dimmer than it was before.

"Need a break?" River asked, not bothering to hide the mocking in his voice.

"No."

She did though. She was exhausted, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction, especially considering he'd already depleted his powers. If she quit now, the only light they'd have would be the tiny glimmer of sunlight that poked through the tightly packed branches of the trees.

Wait. Kessara had forgotten about her newly found power. She could infuse angelic energy with her muscles to give her super strength and speed. But right now, it was stamina that she needed. Kessara knew stamina came from the heart, but she'd never tried channeling energy to her heart before. But at this rate, it was the only thing she could do to keep them from trying to navigate the maze of trees in the dark.

She pulled back on the reins, halting Moonbeam. River halted too, and turned around with raised brows.

"What-"

"Just shut up for a second, will you?"

He rolled his icy eyes, but Kessara didn't care. She was too focused on willing the energy in her veins to flow to her heart. She closed her glowing eyes, feeling the slight heat in her blood flowing up her arms to her shoulders, and then down to her chest. Her heart thundered as the energy reached it, and she imagined it seeping out of her veins and into the tissue. She tied the energy into an intricate web through the tissues of her heart, willing it to glow and strengthen. And, to her surprise and relief, she felt her heartbeat slow to a strong, steady beat. Felt her lungs fill with air, and her shaking hands still. The glowing orb in her hands regained its brightness, once again casting bright blue light all around them.

Kessara smiled sweetly at River, who was gaping.

"How... how?"

"I can intertwine energy into my muscles to make me stronger."

He frowned. "But you used energy to make you strong enough to continue using energy."

"Wow. Excellent observation River!"

He scrunched his nose in annoyance.

"I'm going to crash really hard in a few hours so we'd better get moving. It's not an infinite cycle."

River nodded, impressed, and gestured northward.

"After you."

Another rustle behind them, this time slightly to the right, set Kessara even more on edge. These woods were known for their unusually high vampire population, and she really didn't want to be caught in a scuffle with a mob of vamps when she finally crashed.

But she started northward, praying that her light wouldn't dim until River regained some strength.

Once the shakiness had returned to her hands, the small flecks of daylight through the branches of the trees had turned orange. Sunset had finally arrived.

Kessara sucked in a shallow breath, trying to keep the dizziness from knocking her off her horse. Her vision swam and her chest burned. She really needed to stop.

She could feel River's icy gaze on her.

"We should set up camp for the night. I'm recharging already and I should be fine in the morning. You," he glared at her, "need to sleep. For a long time."

Kessara nearly sagged with relief, not even caring about the fact that he was giving her orders. Before she let the energy she was desperately holding onto go back to Etherea, she glanced around at what they had to work with. Or rather, the lack thereof.

The place River had chosen to set up for the night was just as densely packed with trees as the rest of the forest. Which meant there wasn't a lot of space to stretch out and sleep, nor make a fire that they could both comfortably sit around. But Kessara couldn't go on using her power any longer, and they certainly couldn't be wandering through the dark woods at night.

River dismounted Reverie, quickly tied her to a low-hanging branch before digging a dent in the earth with the heel of his boot. Kessara released the energy back to Etherea and followed suit, tipping forward in her saddle, swinging her leg behind her and sliding down to land on her feet. Usually she was pretty graceful, but as soon as her boots hit the hard dirt, the world started tilting. Her head pounded and her vision swam, turning black around the edges. This was the worst exhaustion she'd ever felt. Usually she could take it and push through a little longer, but this time... she stumbled blindly forward, tripping over her own two feet as the world went black-

And two hands grabbing her elbows managed to steady her.

"Whoa, easy tiger," River's voice cut through the pounding her head, sounding concerned. He gripped her elbows tighter as she slouched again, strong fingers digging into her skin. _That would definitely bruise later_ , she thought. Kessara didn't care, though, not when the alternative was passing out and cracking her skull on a rock.

Slowly, her vision came back, albeit blurry. The bone-deep exhaustion remained, however. Her knees buckled, and she reached out weakly to grab River's arms, shoulders, even just a fistful of his cloak, anything to keep her standing upright. Using this newfound depth to her power certainly had consequences,

"Okay, that's enough," he murmured. He took her left arm and swung it over his shoulder, effectively hoisting her up. He put his other arm right under her arms to hold some of her weight, and slowly half walked, half dragged her over to the nearest tree. He not-so-gently put her down before it, her back hitting the rough bark with a flash of pain.

The sting seemed to wake Kessara up, however. Her dulled senses sharpened, just slightly, and the throbbing her head quieted. It was incredibly dark in those woods at night; so dark she could barely see the outline of River's body as he working to find scrap wood for a fire.

She watched him work, wondering why he didn't kill her when he had the chance. Kessara could barely stand, let alone fight, so killing her would be quick and easy. Not to mention no one would know, considering they were in the middle of Olania's thickest forest. But he didn't. He'd held her upright, instead of letting her fall.

The thought wasn't exactly comforting, although she did feel slightly better about sleeping in his vicinity. If he didn't kill her, what did he want her alive for?

River swore foully under his breath as he tried, and failed, to spark a friction fire.

"What's wrong?" she asked breathlessly, "Never camped out before?"

He brandished the stick he was using at her. "You are _not_ helping."

Kessara huffed a laugh. They needed a spark to ignite the dry moss. She looked around, eyes locking on two rough, jagged stones just within arms reach. Perfect. She tossed them to River, who looked at her blankly.

Kessara rolled her eyes. "Hit them together, dumbass."

"Who are you calling a dumbass?"

"Just do it!"

He shook his head, but did as she told him to. Sure enough, a small spark appeared. He hit them again, this time closer to the kindling, and, thank the Goddess, it ignited. He scrambled to get down on all-fours and blew gently on the flame, willing it to grow and catch the wood.

A few minutes and a lot of cursing later, they had a small crackling fire going. The orange light flickered through the trees, casting eerie shadows up the bark. Kessara kept flinching, her mind adding horns and red eyes to the shapeless shadows. She rested a hand on the hilt of her gold dagger, soaking up the comfort of the cool metal in her palm.

River stiffly sat down across from her, slumped forward with his elbows on his knees. He was no doubt feeling the exhaustion of six hours straight using his magic himself, although it couldn't beat the bone-deep fatigue Kessara was feeling. His icy eyes looked even brighter in the darkness, and the flames flickering across his sharp features made him look positively wicked. She resisted a shudder. Here, in the darkness, he looked like the _Shadow_ she'd imagined.

*******************

River hated her.

He hated her with a burning passion.

Because she interested him. And she was compromising the decision he had to make.

He could tell Kess was studying him, and he knew she knew there was something else going on. That fascinated him. River prided himself on being a brilliant liar, but she could see right through him with those pretty pine-green eyes. It made his life that much more difficult. She'd already asked him about where he had been for the past month, laughing at him when he'd told her he escaped Zulvalar into the Malum Woods, and looked unconvinced when he amended his lie. She would never trust him, not fully. She was too smart, too well-trained, too experienced to believe his lying ass, and she wouldn't go down without putting up one hell of a fight. And after what she did with her powers, giving herself extra strength and stamina, he wondered whether or not he'd survive that fight. For the first time since Avalon, River Lockwood had met his match.

River knew he shouldn't have asked her about her dreams, and immediately regretted it as soon as she answered. Hearing Kess talk about her traumas from war... well, it humanized her. Too much. He had been trying to convince himself to just take her to the faerie queen, to knock her out while she was weak and drag her off in search of bluebells, but he kept seeing her flinch at the shadows from the fires, a fear he knew all too well. He'd started to relate to her, seeing her more as a person and less as a mission.

River had shocked himself when he'd put her arm over his shoulder when she was about to pass out. It would have been too easy, to stay still while she collapsed unconscious to the ground. It would have been too easy to drape her over the back of his horse and find the nearest entrance. It would have been over, that quickly. He would have been free, his back healed. But... he didn't. He'd held her upright instead.

 _What am I doing?_ he thought. _Have I made my decision?_

No. He still had a month to decide.

He knew it was a bad idea to wait, and he knew it was especially bad to spend time with her. He'd already humanized her in his mind. What was next, becoming friends? Caring about her?

River shook himself, and Kess's eyes followed the movement. Even half unconscious, her eyes seemed to look straight through him. Her chest heaved in deep pants, and he got the feeling that she had only recently discovered this extension of her power, and had never used it to the degree she had today.

"I'll take first watch," he offered. "You should sleep."

She looked at him warily. She still thought he would slit her throat while she slept, he realized. That hurt, a deep ache in his chest. Not because she was afraid of him, but because he never wanted to slit anyone's throat. He hadn't had a choice, but after the first few kills, he'd stopped fighting it. It was useless anyway. But right now, he needed her to trust that she would wake up in one piece when it was her turn to keep watch.

"I could have killed you," River drawled, "I could have just let you collapse and crack your head on the rocks. It would have been that easy, but I didn't. Can't you see that I don't want to kill you? I don't, and never have, wanted to kill anybody. So just get some sleep, because I really don't want to have to prop you up for the rest of the journey."

Her nostrils flared, but her pine green eyes softened just slightly. The scary fire within them remained, but it looked like he'd convinced her.

Kess curled her knees to her chest and closed her eyes, and within seconds her heavy breaths slowed into an even, steady rhythm.

And River turned his eyes to the darkness beyond, trying, and failing, to block out the sound of her breathing while he scanned the trees for vampires. 


	26. Chapter 26

Kessara woke to a sharp snap just to her left. She whipped her head toward the sound and saw a black shape, moving so fast she could barely catch the movement, dart into the shadows. The horses were panicking, spooking and leaping around with wild eyes. Thankfully she'd thought to tie her horse a few meters away from the camp to reduce the risk of being stepped on. Her heart stopped.

_Vampires._

A glance at River told her he was thinking the same thing. His eyes were fixed on the movement, whole body still as a statue. He stood where their fire – now dead – was, a gold dagger in each hand. He had his knees bent, tipped slightly forward at the hips with his daggers in a defensive position. Like a panther, ready to pounce.

Kessara tried to do the same, but the exhaustion remained. She felt slightly stronger, like she could stand up on her own, but the few hours of sleep she'd gotten was not nearly enough to regenerate her ability to fight. She wouldn't be able to handle herself against a mob of vampires without sustaining some serious injuries.

But she couldn't just sit here and wait for River, who was also weak, to handle the mob by himself. Besides, showing that kind of weakness to him was not a good idea anyway. He might see it as an opportunity to manipulate or take advantage of her, and in her line of work, that was dangerous. So, Kessara leaned forward and shifted into a stiff crouch, using the tree behind her to balance. She bit back a groan, fingernails digging into the bark as pain lanced through her body. Unsheathing her dagger, she scanned the woods.

Another snap, this time right behind them. Kessara swung around, aiming her dagger at the source of the noise, but it was already gone. The horses whinnied in fear, bucking and kicking.

She turned to look at River, to make some sort of silent game-plan to survive this inconvenience, but what she saw had her shooting to her feet, her exhaustion temporarily overcome by pure adrenaline.

" _Duck!_ " she screamed, and threw her gold dagger at his chest.

Thank the Goddess for his fast reflexes. He dropped to his stomach, just as her dagger imbedded itself into the heart of a horrific creature. It was humanoid, shaped like a man, but with canines so huge they touched its jaw, stained red and rotting out of its head. Its eyes were a disgusting shade of yellow, filled with insane bloodlust, and its body was nothing but ice-white skin and bone.

The vampire clawed at the knife with three-inch black talons, the wound spurting red blood, before collapsing to the ground in a heap.

River leapt to his feet, chest heaving, and looked at her incredulously.

"Nice throw."

"Shut up."

Suddenly, Kessara was hit with a wave of dizziness. She braced a hand on the tree to steady herself, but the world kept spinning, and spinning, and spinning...

She could vaguely hear River's voice shouting her name, but it was distant, so far away –

Someone shoved her hard, and Kessara hit the ground on all-fours, pain shooting through her as rocks dug into her palms and knees.

Kessara shook her head hard, using the pain to snap out of her stupor. Her dulled senses sharpened slightly, and her vision stopped swimming. She needed to stand up. As soon as she'd hit the ground, she'd been vulnerable. Her back was exposed to enemies.

So, Kessara managed to get onto one knee, and then into a painful crouch. But if her training and experience had taught her anything, it was to work with what you have. And right now, she had pain. The pain had woken her up a little bit, grounded her into the here and now, so she decided to use it to her advantage.

Kessara tore away the bandage over her knuckles, blinking away the fogginess before her eyes. She took a deep, steadying breath, and slammed her healing hand into the sharp rocks.

The pain was blinding. All her focus narrowed to the agony in her hand, now radiating up her arm to her shoulders. But it was unleashing as well. The fog in her head cleared instantly and the world snapped into focus. Snarling and snapping teeth sounded behind her, along with River's voice, swearing colourfully.

Vampires. That was their biggest problem right now.

Kessara leapt to her feet and whirled around to find River engaged in combat with three vampires. And he was losing. He was already bleeding from a wound on his neck, as well as a short laceration to his forehead. His twin gold daggers were stained with blood, no doubt belonging to the three dead vampires who lay at his feet. Dirt stained his face and arms, caked onto his cloak. There must have been a struggle while she was...incapacitated.

Kessara squeezed her wounded hand into a fist, skin stretching and stinging as the wounds widened. Good, she needed to keep her senses sharp in a fight like this.

Demons weren't usually good fighters, fairly easy to cut through. The only reason Cygnis was losing was because of the sheer _amount_ of them. But vampires were a different story. She'd studied them back at the castle, and knew the only way to kill them was decapitation or stabbing through the heart. They didn't have their own blood, instead bleeding whatever was their last meal. They burned in the presence of anything ethereal, so it would have been helpful if she had just an inkling of her magic left, but she was still completely drained.

The vampires circled River, snapping their fangs at him. He jabbed with his knife, more of a warning than an attempt to hit, but she doubted he had much hand-to-hand combat experience, considering he was an assassin. He killed while his victims slept, not while they fought back. Kessara drew her sword and charged into the fight.

***************

River made a mental note to _never_ get on Kess's bad side.

Great Goddess she was scary. She could barely stand a minute ago, yet she still launched into the fight, sword in hand.

The vampire closest to him turned and snarled before leaping for her, claws outstretched and teeth bared. She didn't even flinch. She swung her sword. slicing its head clean off its body, blood spattering all over her. She didn't seem to notice. She wobbled slightly as the momentum of the sword took her, but she threw an arm out to the side and righted herself.

Kess's eyes locked with his, pinning him under a withering stare.

Oh right, he should probably help.

As if on que, a vampire snapped its teeth behind him. River whirled around and struck, aiming for the heart. He didn't have the luxury of a long-range weapon to decapitate these monsters, so he needed to get in close. The vampire dodged his first strike. He wasn't much for hand-to-hand combat. River was more of a strategist; silent as the night, killing before the victim knew what hit them. But he was trained in battle nonetheless, but when the vampire tackled him to the ground, he realized not well enough.

Blinding pain shot through him when his back hit the dirt, and he yelped, the impact knocking his daggers from his hands.

The faerie queen had 'healed' him temporarily, but only of the infection, not the wounds. She'd intentionally kept them open, as a reminder to keep up his end of the deal, and what he stood to lose if he didn't.

The vampire lunged for River's neck again, which was already spurting blood from where another vamp had snuck up on him. He put an elbow its neck to keep its snapping teeth away, his other hand fumbling around beside him for his knives. The vampire's ugly head was so close he could smell its metallic breath, but his knives were still just out of reach. The only way to win this was to get out of this submission hold, but the vampire had triple the strength of a human or sorcerer. He was screwed. The vampire clawed at him with black talons and River put his other arm up to block the attack, clawing deep scratches into his forearm. The wounds spurted blood, but River was no stranger to pain. However, the wounds only weakened him further. Rocks dug into his injured back, the vampire was still lunging for the spewing laceration on his neck, and now the only thing keeping his jugular away from that vampire's teeth; his arms, were now injured as well. And considering how thin and weak he'd gotten in the past weeks, well, it was a wonder he could still hold this vamp back.

Oh, he was so screwed.

The vampire went to snap for his neck again, but it never got the chance. A sickening thud, hot blood spattering all over River's face and neck, and something landed with a thump right next to his head. The vampire's headless body collapsed on top of him, leaking blood all over his jerkin and cloak. He threw it off the best he could, and was met with the sight of Kess standing over him, looking murderous. She was covered in blood, all over her face and arms. Her black shirt was torn so badly it look like she was missing a sleeve. She'd lost her cloak at some point, her chocolatey hair a matted mess. And she looked like she was going to kill him.

River made to get up, but she pointed her sword at his chest, the point digging just slighty into his sternum. Her chest heaved, but it wasn't because of the fight. It was rage.

In that moment, River was more scared of her than the vampires. All around them, headless bodies lay in lifeless heaps. She'd killed them, he realized. There had been seven in the mob. She'd killed three of them in the time it took for him to get tackled by one.

"You don't know how to fight?" she said softly. Her eyes didn't match the tone of her voice. "You, the most prolific serial killer in Orbis, can't fight hand to hand?"

Kess dug the point of her sword harder into his chest, and he winced at the sting.

"You nearly got us killed. I thought you did, considering you got me on the ground back in the alley, but you can't fight more than one thing at the same time?" she was seething, but she was right. He'd never been trained as a soldier. He'd never really been _trained_ really. He'd just always had a job, and a punishment if he screwed up. He'd learned to think on his feet, think for his life, and to be faster than his opponent. But fighting hand to hand? Not in his job description. Or _was_ in his job description, he supposed, now that he was supposedly going to become a Commander.

 _No,_ he thought. _You either die, or you take Kess to the faerie queen and gain your freedom._

"I prefer to wing it," he said casually.

Wrong thing to say.

Her eyes flashed.

"You know I never believed in coming here to find you. I thought it was a waste of time," she spat. "But then in the alley you showed me your powers and skill and I thought that maybe you _could_ turn the tide in the war. But now? I know I was right all along."

River flinched at her venomous words. Because they were true as well. He was supposed to be on watch, supposed to be protecting her. Instead, despite halfway unconscious and barely being able to stand, she'd protected him. He was useless, a dead-weight, and so not worth the month journey from Cygnis in the middle of the biggest war in history. How would he fight for Cygnis when he couldn't even fight?

 _No,_ he reminded himself, _you never will fight for Cygnis. Remember your deal._

"Fine. I'm not good at hand to hand, and..." he took a steadying breath, "... and I'm sorry for almost killing us."

She watched him for a second, her pretty pine-green eyes burning holes in his.

Yep, never get on Kess's bad side.

But surprisingly, she lowered her sword, and offered her blood-covered hand.

She rolled her eyes when he hesitated a second. River just needed a second to process. She'd just torn a strip off him, and was now offering her hand?

He didn't want to take it. Taking it meant he was making a connection to her. Taking it meant that his decision would become ten thousand times harder.

"Just take my damn hand, River."

And so, he did.


	27. Chapter 27

Kessara pulled the cork out of her bottle with her teeth, and poured the water all over the newly-reopened wounds on her knuckles. She bit down on a hiss at the sting, but it passed as quickly as it came. She flexed her fingers, now fairly clean of dirt and grime. Thankfully, none of the blood on her was her own.

River had restarted the fire while Kessara had stumbled over to the horses, leaning heavily on her sword, to calm them down. Even five minutes later, every muscle in Moonbeam's was taught as a wire, his eyes wild and he kept swishing his tail nervously from side to side. Beside him, Reverie looked just as nervous, the whites of her eyes a stark contrast to the absolute darkness of her coat.

Behind her, she heard River suck in a breath. He'd gotten some pretty nasty wounds on his neck and forearms during the fight.

Kessara sighed heavily. The _Shadow_ himself couldn't fight a mob of zombies? She knew he had other skills. For one, he was an excellent spy, considering he managed to commit hundreds of assassinations in the past ten years. But they were at war. Kessara needed soldiers, not spies.

However, her biggest priority was to make sure River lived long enough to make it to the castle. She doubted he'd be able to survive even a small infection, considering how weak and pale he already was.

She turned around to find him sitting on a rock, trying to unlace his jerkin with his injured arm. His cloak was already in a heap on the ground, covered in vampire blood and gore. His jerkin joined it there a second later. Gingerly, he peeled his shit sleeve up to expose three deep claw marks in his flesh.

Surprisingly, he didn't seem too troubled by the lacerations. He didn't even bother to rinse them before tearing a strip off his black shirt and wrapping it hastily.

"Whoa, what do you think you're doing?"

Kessara limped over to him, using her sword as a walking stick, and grabbed his injured wrist. He didn't resist. His skin was strangely warm, which was a shock after she'd felt the icy coldness of his power in the alley. She could feel the bones in his wrist digging into her palm. She pulled the strip of fabric off and turned it over, examining the cuts. His arm was covered in dirt and grime, the edges of the wounds black.

His face remained expressionless, even when she put two fingers on either side of one of the cuts and pulled it open, looking for any dirt that made it inside. There was... a lot of it.

"Hold still," she ordered, "If you die, I die."

River huffed a laugh. "Don't worry, Kess, a few cuts never hurt me."

Kessara shook her head, before pouring water over his arm. He didn't even flinch, just watched her with his icy eyes.

She hated when he did that. It was so... _violating_. Like he was reading every thought in her head like she was an open book.

Once Kessara was satisfied that his wounds were generally clean, she moved on to the bite mark in his neck. It had stopped spurting, now just oozing blood, but she couldn't clean a wound that still bled. She took a step back, nodding at his neck.

"Put some pressure on that, not-" she glared at him when he went to put his hand to the wound, "with your filthy hands. With a cloth, preferably clean."

He lowered his hand. Kessara rummaged through her saddle-bags for an old shirt, and tossed him one of her many black t-shirts. He caught it easily and pressed it to the cut on his neck. Again, he didn't even wince.

It was like he didn't feel pain. Or, she thought sadly, or he wasn't a stranger to it.

Kessara found her tin of ointment at the bottom of her bag and quickly unscrewed the lid, smearing some onto her re-split knuckles. She was still exhausted. The world had stopped spinning, but the edges of her vision was still dark, and her limbs felt like lead. The brief burst of adrenaline had allowed her to slaughter all those vamps had long-since faded, now leaving her dull and tired.

River eyed her injured hand.

"How'd you do that?" he asked. He seemed genuinely curious.

"Punched a mirror."

He choked on a laugh.

"What?"

"Well," Kessara amended, "It was a portal. Back in Cygnis Wild Country I fought some demons. They summoned Avalon-" he flinched at her name, "into a mirror. After I killed the demons, she was still there. She was pissing me off, talking about how much she enjoyed killing my soldiers. You can figure out what happened next."

River's icy eyes did that thing again, and Kessara resisted the urge to fidget.

"You really care about them. Your soldiers, I mean."

"Of course, I do. I've trained many of them myself and anyone brave enough to take a stand against that demon army has my respect."

River looked at her like her words had been a slap to the face, but Kessara didn't understand why. Of course, she cared about her soldiers. Every time one of her soldiers died, a part of her died with them. Every time she sent them out on the battlefield, her heart broke because she knew that many of them would not return. Was he expecting a different answer?

"What?" she demanded.

He shook his head, the shock disappearing as fast as it had come.

"Nothing." He peeled her shirt away from his neck and checked it. "I think it's stopped bleeding."

Kessara limped back over to him and grabbed his face, pulling it to the side to look at the wound.

"Ow-"

"Shut up," she murmured. The cut was pretty deep and the skin around it was in ribbons. It certainly wasn't a clean cut, more like the vampire had literally torn a chunk out of his skin. It wasn't likely to heal without one hell of a scar, but she supposed he didn't mind that. However, only the Goddess knew what that vampire had been chewing on before biting River, and she doubted just pouring water on it would completely erase whatever toxins were now in the wound, but it was better than nothing. The sooner they could find a healer, the better. Kessara quickly rinsed the wound, and handed him her tin of ointment.

"Put some of that on your arm and neck," she ordered.

He did, spreading it over the cuts and lacerations, before tearing a strip out of her shirt and swiftly tying it over them.

"We still have about five days left in these woods, so we should try to find some water soon," Kessara thought aloud, "after that we should find a healer as soon as possible, although I doubt that there's any left in Arisia now."

River waved her off.

"If you're worried about me, sugar," he winked, "I'll be fine without a healer for a while yet."

Kessara gripped the hilt of her sword and debated running him through with it, just for the absolute disrespect alone. Did he really just call _her_ 'sugar'?

He noticed her white knuckled grip on the pommel, and took a hasty step backwards.

"If you really think you're fine, then we'll go straight to Maior," she said tightly. "Start packing, and keep an eye on that neck wound."

A few minutes later they were already on their way North, however their powers were still shot, so the only way they could keep moving was through the complete darkness. Kessara was sure to be extra careful guiding her horse through the trees. She slouched as low as she could in her saddle to avoid getting smacked in the face by a branch, and kept her sword out in front of her, sweeping from side to side to feel for any trees that came out of nowhere. Moonbeam was certainly _not_ enjoying the journey; trotting around skittishly. It took all her effort to keep him relatively calm. River seemed to be having the same problem with Reverie, although she couldn't exactly see past the point of her own sword. Just by the sound of his horse's snorting and River's hissed swearing, she could tell he was having a hell of a time keeping away from trees.

Over the hours, Kessara could feel her energy and power slowly returning. The world sharpened into focus, despite the darkness in the forest, and her limbs felt lighter, her movements less lethargic. She started to feel like herself again, and Great Goddess she was glad for it. She hated feeling so vulnerable out in vampire country without her powers, and hated needing to rely on River's returning powers even more. His sorcery had returned about two hours after their incident with the vampires, but they'd decided against using it to light the path, just in case they came across any more. Kessara's magic, on the other hand, hadn't returned enough for use at all so far.

They spent their time talking about the Caelum City. Or rather, he asked her questions and she answered them. He seemed to be really curious about her past and how she became a Commander, but Kessara couldn't bring herself to tell him. She'd spent her life forcing those memories out of her mind; she wasn't going to relive them now, especially not with someone she'd just met two days ago. And certainly not if that person was River Lockwood. She'd told him that she'd worked her ass off for her job; and it was the truth.

Then it was her turn to ask questions. She'd asked him how he never learned to fight properly, and he'd fidgeted at that. He said his job was strategy and stealth, and that he was an assassin, not a soldier. He said he was never really trained in anything in Nox Palace, all he had was a job, and incentive. Right as she was about to ask him what he meant; she noticed the tiny dots of light that managed to escape through the dense branches was turning orange. It was the end of their second day in the woods.

Kessara quickly dismounted Moonbeam and hastily tied him to a branch, River right behind her. This time, she had enough energy to get her bedroll out to sleep on. River looked at it with envy when she unrolled it, and she did feel a little guilty about the fact that he didn't have one, or anything at all for that matter.

He busied himself with making a miniature tent out of fire wood while Kessara searched around for some dry moss to use as kindling. When she got back, River already had two rocks ready, but Kessara wanted to test out her slowly-returning magic.

She closed her eyes, sending invisible feelers up to the heavens. It felt more sluggish than usual, but Kessara persisted. She pulled a tiny sliver of energy down, and snapped her fingers...

A tiny, blue spark lit the dried moss aflame. Kessara quickly blew on the flame and shoved it under the fire wood. Soon enough, the flame caught the dry bark and the fire grew. The sudden presence of light shocked them slightly, and Kessara squinted, letting her eyes adjust. But after a few minutes, the blinding light dimmed to a soft orange glow. It warmed Kessara right down to her toes. Kessara stiffly sat down on her bedroll, savouring the softness. Spending days sitting on a hard saddle was not comfortable in the slightest. She stretched her legs out in front of her, letting the fire warm them.

Then she noticed River sit down opposite her, on the hard ground no less.

Kessara scowled.

"Do you want to sit here?" she asked.

He choked. "What?"

"I asked if you wanted to sit here."

River looked at her like she'd smacked him upside the head. She frowned. She was just trying to be nice, something that certainly didn't come naturally to her. Why was he being all weird?

She half expected him to refuse. But he got up and circled the fire before silently sitting down on her bedroll next to her.

He smelled like woodsmoke, she realized, mixed with a sort of saltiness. She probably smelled similar, but it sent an icy shock through her. Sitting across form her, his sharp features bathed in shadows, he looked like the _Shadow_ she'd imagined. The infamous assassin, who'd killed thousands of people in the last ten years. But when his scent filled her nose, he'd suddenly transformed into a twenty-two-year-old guy with a messed-up past, albeit still shrouded in mystery, and a hope for a better life. She didn't know how she felt about the realization.

Kessara wondered if her own humanization was the reason River had looked so shocked when she'd offered the edge of her bedroll. It made her want to retreat to the other side of the fire. She still had one question, however.

"What incentive did you have to kill all those people?"

As expected, he took a shaky breath, turning his near-glowing blue eyes to hers.

"It wasn't so much incentive as it was punishment." River reached up and rubbed the top of his shoulder blade.

Years of training had taught her to catch people's physical cues. He'd touched his shoulder when he said the word 'punishment'. Interesting...

Kessara stayed silent, waiting for him to elaborate. Thankfully, he did.

"But it wasn't incentive or punishment that made me kill all those people."

She frowned. Then what was it? He didn't seem interested in telling her, considering how dutifully he was staring at a tree across from them, so she moved on to a different question.

"What punishment?"

She watched his throat bob, his features contorting in an expression she couldn't recognize. But just as soon as it came, it was replaced by a smirk.

"If we're going to play a game, Kess, we've got to play fair. A question for a question."

Kessara wondered what else he could possibly ask about her. He'd been grilling her about her past since they left that morning.

"Fine,' she growled, "but you have to answer my question first."

She expected a casual shrug, or something equally cocky, but he only clenched his jaw even tighter and looked away.

"It didn't matter how well I completed a mission; it was never enough for her. She always found something wrong with it, something that I messed up." He huffed a bitter laugh. "You should've seen her when she found out there were legends about me. She said that legends came from witnesses, so I must have left witnesses, ultimately I screwed my mission."

Kessara found herself starting to really _not_ want to know the answer to her question. Nevertheless, River went on.

"The punishments varied, but her favourite was the whip." He whispered the last word.

Kessara recoiled. A _whip_? Avalon _whipped_ him? She curled her hands into fists.

"It wasn't just the whip, though," the words seemed to come tumbling from his mouth in a rush, "She would turn the lights off in my cell for weeks at a time, or burn me, or she would make me choose between-"

He cut himself off, like he said too much. As much as she was curious, Kessara didn't think she could take much more. Her blood was boiling. She could see now that he never worked for Avalon. He was just a glorified prisoner with incredible power, and she'd tortured him into submission.

A dull roaring grew in her ears. She couldn't wait to drive her knife into the heart of that despicable, vile _bitch_.

"Now I know why you were so eager to join the other side."

He chuckled without humor.

She stared into the flames, imagining Avalon tied to a stake in the middle of it.

"I'm gonna kill her," she hissed, fingernails digging into her palms, "I'm going to _kill_ her."

She felt his icy gaze burning holes into her cheek.

"I thought the same, Kess. Trust me when I tell you, she's impossible to kill alone. Wherever she's getting her magic from, its infinite, unlimited. She can do anything."

Kessara's nostrils flared. Everything could die, including Avalon. She just needed to find her weakness.

"Her magic comes from Diabolis. Its demon energy. After what happened when your magic and mine connected, I wonder what would happen if angelic and demonic energy combined."

River rubbed his jaw. "Our energy canceled out; light and dark. You may be on to something..."

"I'll bet anything demon energy and ethereal energy will reject. If we're lucky, with one hell of an explosion."

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"If you're right, and you managed to get close enough to-" he choked on the name, "-her, the rejection would be equal. It would kill you too."

Kessara considered his words, and the silent question within them. But she was confident in her answer.

"Hundreds of thousands of my soldiers have laid down their lives for the same cause. Who am I to do any less?"

"You would die," he repeated.

Kessara smiled. "Then I'd be taking her with me."

River's throat bobbed again. But his smart-ass smile returned.

"Now for my question," he mused.

She blinked. Hadn't she just answered it?

As if reading her thoughts, he said "I never asked a question, you just elaborated on points I made."

Kessara snarled. "You son of a-"

"-ah, watch your language, Commander. And you know I'm right."

He was, she just hated it.

River gazed into the flickering fire, thinking of a question. Just as she was about to give up on the whole game and tell him to sleep, his icy eyes caught hers.

"How did you really make it to the castle?"

Kessara's breath caught.

"Because I highly doubt that they taught wilderness survival in that pretty marble castle. At least, not before you got there."

No, any question but that.

But she knew the terms of her deal, and she couldn't chicken out. Especially after he'd confessed the tortures he went through in Avalon's castle.

"It was just my mother and I. She was a powerless, so she became a fancy lady to make money. She always resented me, having more power than her _histrionis_ addiction could ever generate. So, she would stay away for days at a time, and I had to learn to fend for myself. I learned to beg, to start fires, to ride horses, and to be handy with a knife. My mother was murdered by one of her...customers... when I was eleven years old. So, I drove my own cart the two-days journey to Polaris, and I ended up in the Caelum City at the castle gates. Savannah," Kessara smiled sadly at the memory of her friend, "She was playing in the garden that day. I hadn't eaten in days, and she saw me through the gates. I didn't notice, and I parked my cart right up next to the gates. I was starving, but I learned that night that the people of the Caelum City were not as generous as I was used to. But Savannah had snuck out of the castle that night with a loaf of bread." She chuckled. "She grabbed my foot through the bars of the fence. I nearly kicked her in the face, but she just laughed. She gave the bread, and returned every single day with more food. When I was twelve, the minimum age to join the army training program, Savannah snuck me in. I was the youngest, and the only girl. I got my ass kicked, but I loved it. Savannah saved my life. I will forever be in her debt."

River stayed silent for a long time, studying her.

"She sounds like the perfect future queen," he said at last.

Kessara nodded, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. She'd been trying to force down those memories for the last twelve years of her life. Reliving them had been... challenging.

"Which makes me wonder; do your loyalties lie with the current queen of Cygnis, or the future one?"

"I already answered your question," she said. "Now sleep. It's my turn to take first watch."

He regarded her again, but obeyed. He stretched out on his stomach on the hard ground next to her bed roll, resting his chin on his elbow, and passed out within seconds. 


	28. Chapter 28

Kessara was really getting sick of hitting herself on branches.

It was the end of the last day of their week-long journey through the Fascinare forest, and Kessara couldn't wait to get out of the darkness, even if it was just to Arisia's wasteland of a coast. They'd spent the past few days talking, playing the game they were both so good at; trying to find out the other's true motivations and deepest secrets. Kessara hated to admit it, but she was starting to feel more comfortable with him. If he wanted her dead, he would have done so by now. He would've killed her when she was seconds from losing consciousness a few days ago. But he chose to save her instead. She didn't like him, but... she trusted him. And he seemed to trust her. He'd told her about some of the things that happened to him in the castle, how his parents treated him. And in turn, she told him of how her colleagues treated her at the castle, how she had to be ruthless and blood-thirsty to survive in the cutthroat training regime. River was a good listener, although Kessara hated every word that came out of her mouth. She tried to tell herself that this was just him gaining intel on her to feed to whoever held his leash, but he seemed so genuine in his curiosity. He seemed to understand, like he could empathize with her, and her with him.

She could hear River's sigh of relief beside her as the thinning trees allowed for the blue-grey light of rainy skies to peek through.

River's voice cut through the silence

"I'll race you to the treeline."

"What?" Kessara chuckled, turning to look at him, but he was already gone, just a flash of black darting through the trees toward to treeline.

"Hey, wait!"

His cackle of laughter was his only reply.

Oh no, she was _not_ going to lose. She spurred Moonbeam forward, going as fast as she safely could without hitting trees in the still suffocating darkness. She ducked low, her chin nearly touching Moonbeam's dirty mane, to keep from hitting branches, but River and Reverie were still winning by a lot. At the pace she and her chubby royal pony were going, he'd win by a mile.

Her new power. Kessara wondered if channeling angelic energy into Moonbeam would increase his turning ability as well. She certainly hoped so when she reached up to the heavens and pulled energy down, sending it into her horse's muscles.

Thank the Goddess, she was right. Moonbeam's veins matched Kessara's glowing blue ones, and he instantly rocketed forward, dashing easily side to side around trees, soaring over logs and ditches, all seemingly on his own accord. She grinned at her horse's intelligence. The trees flew past so fast the world turned to a blur of black and grey, the treeline growing closer and closer by the second.

Kessara clamped her thighs to the saddle, sitting back as far back in her seat as she could, and all but throwing her reins away to grab a fistful of his mane as to not go flying off to the side as Moonbeam leapt right and left.

Kessara's stomach was in her throat, white-knuckling her horse's mane, her thighs burning but... she was smiling. Laughing.

It was _fun._

Distantly, she could hear River's shout of protest as she hurtled past him, but she didn't care.

Before she knew it, she shot into the blinding daylight. Her eyes burned as the light hit her eyes, and her skin stung as the rain hit it at the high speeds. She needed to stop.

Kessara grabbed for her reins, sitting down hard in her saddle and pulling up. Mud sprayed as Moonbeam's legs locked and they skidded to one of the fastest, cleanest stops Kessara had ever made.

She tore the energy from Moonbeam's body and sent it back to Etherea. She felt his body slump back to normal, the energy gone, replaced by his usual laziness. But she was too proud to care.

"Good boy Moonbeam! Oh, who's the smartest, handsomest, best boy..."

She showered him with affection, and he nickered in appreciation, turning his head around to nibble at her boot. Kessara leaned over and rubbed his neck, despite the fact that it was soaking wet, still cooing at him like he was a baby.

"Kess! What the hell?" River's voice cut through her cuddles. Reverie lazily cantered up to her, and the poor girl was panting like a dog. Her mane clumped together in wet, black spikes, her coat a smear of black fur.

Oh yeah, it was raining. Pouring, actually. Her hair was already plastered to her head, her clothes sticking to her skin. She silently cursed her torn cloak. That jungle on Calams Isle had really done a number on it.

River, on the other hand, was still completely dry; save for his hair of course. His cloak was still intact, and the rain fell in sheets off of it, keeping his clothes clean. He'd raked his dripping wet hair back out of his face, which made his scar all-the-more prominent.

She scowled at her soaked clothes.

"That's cheating," he growled.

Kessara laughed.

"Hardly. You already had a head start."

"But-"

Kessara was already moving, turning her horse northward.

"Just accept it, River. I won."

He mumbled something under his breath behind her, and Kessara whipped her head around, eyes glowing,

"What was that?"

He gave her sickly sweet smile.

"I was just saying what good a rider you are."

"That's what I thought. Let's move out."

Kessara had studied Arisian geography, so she knew that the extra iron and salt in the water was to blame for its colour, but it didn't make it any less shocking to see what looked like a see of blood lapping up the shoreline.

Rain continued to pour down, also slightly tinted red, which blurred the horizon into an orange smudge.

From her readings, Kessara knew that Arisia used to be a thriving country and its coastline was seen as exotic, drawing crowds of tourists and new residents. Pictures of stunning white houses with bright red roofs, their lush green lawns a stark contrast to the coral red of the surrounding waters, filled her textbooks. But now, during the war, those houses had been burned to ashes, their blackened foundations like corpses lining the broken cobblestone road she and River now rode on.

It was downright eerie, riding through the wasteland. Kessara couldn't look at the water; it reminded her too much of the pools of the blood of her soldiers on the battlefield. The remnants of the houses weren't much better, her chest tightening as she wondered what happened to their occupants.

No, she knew what happened to them. They _died_.

So, Kessara kept her focus straight through her horse's ears, and tried to block out the world.

****************

Kess was fascinating to watch.

River kept finding himself glancing in her direction, watching the way she moved.

She held herself like a queen; shoulders squared, chin high, but he saw the way she'd cringed away from the site of the red water. The way she kept her pretty evergreen eyes pointed straight ahead as to block out the shore and the skeletons of the houses.

The way she gasped and shrieked in her sleep, how she had claw marks on her neck from her own fingernails. How she hadn't hesitated before saying she'd die to kill Avalon.

She was just like him, he realized. Screwed up in the head.

River knew he was in very dangerous territory, talking to her like this. It just made him more confused. Just made him stall his mission, just a little longer.

He hadn't even been tempted to yank her into that patch of bluebells he'd seen yesterday. He just flinched away from it, imagining the faerie queen's clawed fingers reaching up and pulling him down into her wicked realm.

He knew he should just do it. Just hand Kess over to the Queen Onagh and live the rest of his life in freedom. Never having to hurt or kill anyone again, never worried that Avalon would say those wretched words and drag him back to that castle of nightmares.

He'd seen the way she'd channeled that energy to her horse, how she'd shot past him like an arrow in their little race. How she'd killed all those vampires while half-unconscious from exhaustion. She was powerful. Maybe giving her to the queen wouldn't be so bad? Maybe, with all her survival skills and instincts, she would survive. She could make it out, go back to her castle, and live happily ever after. And he could live in peace and freedom like he'd always wanted.

But he just... _couldn't_. It was all false hope; the faerie queen was no sorceress, and had powers beyond measure. She wouldn't just 'talk' to Kess like she'd said... no, she'd make her in a sort of slave, a puppet on a string. If she was lucky, the queen would just kill her right there. If she wasn't, well, he knew first-hand that there were horrors worse than death.

She had too much to live for. She was the highest-ranking warrior in her kingdom, with a real capability to kill Avalon. She had a job, friends, a life to get back to.

What did he have?

****************

Savannah crept down the hallway that lead to the Royal wing of the castle. It was late, and after a tough training session with Commander Alaric, she couldn't wait to take a warm bath. Her limbs felt like lead, her muscles burning. She doubted how well she'd be able to fight if whatever lurked in the castle decided to come out to play.

She threw out her power, feeling for any emotions coming from in front or behind her, but after sensing nothing for a long while, Savannah's tiredness overpowered her paranoia. But as she rounded the corner into the Royal Wing, she was hit by wall of dread.

Her intuition was going crazy, like that dull sense of fear in the background had been amplified by a thousand. Her heart hammered, but she continued down the hall, unsheathing her new iron dagger and holding it out in front of her, just how Alaric taught her. But the dread was nauseating. She threw her power out, feeling for her mother's emotions...

There, a tiny glimmer among the suffocating terror. Savannah followed it, but as she got closer, a new feeling gripped her. Confusion.

Her mother was in her bedroom, but before, Savannah couldn't get a good read on her emotions. Now that she was closer to the source, she felt... strange. Savannah expected her mother to feel fear, or pain, or something that wasn't, well, ecstasy. Her mother usually never seemed to feel anything, really, so this pure euphoria threw Savannah off. How could she feel so elated with this cloud of darkness over the entire wing?

When Savannah made it to her mother's bedroom door, she noticed it was slightly ajar. That set Savannah back on her heels. Her mother _never_ left her door open. Savannah pressed her back against the wall beside the door, wishing that breathing wasn't a necessity. After all his training, Alaric couldn't have taught her to breathe quieter?

She never really trusted her mother, and in the past month couldn't bear to be in the same room as her. She never knew why, but every time she was with her, the feeling of dread strengthened tenfold. So, she instinctively knew barging into her mother's chambers would be a death-sentence.

But she needed to know the cause of her euphoria. And so, she plucked up her remaining shreds of courage, and peered through the crack in the door into her mother's chambers.

She had to clamp her hand over her mouth to stifle her scream.


	29. Chapter 29

Kessara nearly jumped for joy when the water turned blue.

After four days of travelling through the wasteland that was the Arisian coast, camping out right out in the open, having no choice but to huddle close together to combat hypothermia, she was almost looking forward to sailing the treacherous waters of the Dead Zone.

She was certainly starting to question her sanity at that point.

As they had continued north, the battle site grew nearer. Now, if Kessara really listened, she could hear the sounds of war. Screaming and explosions echoed down the coastline.

Flashbacks from her own time on the battle field gripped her, and the sounds of demon chittering, swords clashing, and that wet thunk when that demon tore out her soldier's heart, reverberated in her ears

Her fingers itched to grab her sword, her senses opening up like she was back on the front lines. Shadows jumped out at her, and she whipped her head around as a demon's laughter cackled all around. Was that shadow a demon? More of them, red taloned fingers reaching for her, grabbing at her legs, her clothes. Where were her soldiers? Rivers of blood emptied into the red waters, the blood of her soldiers. Their bodies were everywhere, their eyes cloudy and lifeless. A new smarm of demons roared as they came crawling toward her. She needed back up, there were too many of them...

"Hey, are you okay?" River's voice cut through her thoughts. She held on to it, like a lifeline back to the here and now. Suddenly she was back on Moonbeam, walking along the Arisian coastline, River and Reverie walking beside her.

She took a deep, shaky breath.

"Fine. I'm fine," she sucked in another breath, "I'm fine."

Kessara could feel River's icy eyes burning holes in her cheek.

"Loosen your reins, Kessara."

She looked down, shocked to see her hands balled into fists, so tight that her fingernails dug crescent-shaped marks into her palms.

She loosened her reins.

"You're really not fine, are you?"

Kessara turned to look at him. His expression was unreadable.

"No, I'm not fine. But my personal problems mean nothing when the fate of my country and my people are at stake. I can deal with the flashbacks and the nightmares if it means that Avalon loses."

River was silent for a long time.

"You're very brave, Kess. Braver than I could ever be."

Kessara didn't know what to say to that. She scanned his face, but she couldn't see an indication that he was being disingenuous. In fact, he almost seemed...sad.

"I hope you'll tell me about whatever your hiding one day."

He looked away, huffing a forced laugh.

"I don't know what your talking about."

"There's still a lot I don't know about you, River."

He smirked. "Like what?"

"Well, for one, whatever your deal is with Zephyr Rockshade," she replied.

He winced at the name.

"See? And I bet you thought I forgot about that eye branded into your palm. I'm guessing that has something to do with the faerie queen."

Kessara watched his facial cues again, noting the tightness in his jaw. She cocked her head.

"But you're also hiding something else. Something else happened to you in the castle, didn't it? Something worse than the... punishments."

River's eyes bored into hers, but she refused to break his stare. He did that, she noticed, when he didn't want to answer. To intimidate her into looking away, to end the conversation. Kessara could see why; his eyes were nothing short of intense, and it probably worked in the past. But she'd dealt with a lot worse than intense eyes, Hell, _she_ was known for her own intensity. So, she held his gaze.

He broke first, shifting his eyes to the approaching dock.

"You are good at what you do," was all he said.

Kessara nodded.

"Like I said, I hope you tell me one day."

River refused to meet her eyes.

They walked the last few minutes to the dock in loaded silence.

The dock was nearly falling apart, so much so that Kessara wondered how it would hold up under their horse's weight. It groaned and shuddered as they stepped onto it, which did not ease Kessara's concerns at all. Neither did the boat.

It was massive full-rigged ship, like the ones that pirates use, made entirely of pine wood, with huge yellow sails. However, the soft wood was starting to rot away, and the edges of the sails were torn and shredded. It certainly looked like a ship used to crossing the Dead Zone. Kessara only hoped it would hold up for just one more journey.

The captain, a slimy old man with only a captain's hat on to show his rank, greeted them at the entrance of the boat.

The inside wasn't much better, and Moonbeam's hoofs splashed slightly as they walked into the belly of the ship. There were only three stalls, one of them already inhabited by a chubby Fjord pony; no doubt the captain's horse. Kessara and River put their respective horses in the remaining stalls, and went to find where they'd be sleeping. They found the crew's sleeping area, but all the doors were locked. A crew member, a short, middle-aged woman with bright red hair, finally offered to show them the way.

When the woman had said she would show them to their 'room', Kessara assumed she'd misspoke.

That was not the case.

"Oh, great Goddess," River murmured.

At least it had two separate beds.

The room (singular) was tiny, which was strange considering the size of the ship, but with twenty crew members, she supposed they needed their own rooms as well. It had one tiny porthole, and was completely barren. No carpets, no decorations, just two simple twin beds with yellow blankets.

A week. She had to spend a week in this tiny room with River Lockwood.

 _Goddess,_ she prayed, _kill me now._

She put her bags on the closest bed, while River thanked the crew member. A few seconds later, Kessara felt her balance shift as the boat lurched forward.

"Well," River said cheerfully, plopping down on the other bed. "Lucky you! You get to spend an entire week sleeping in the same room as me." He stretched out like a cat on his stomach, resting his cheek on his hands.

Kessara growled.

"You know what? If we have to spend a week together, it's not going to be in here," she said.

He lifted his head at that.

"What?"

Kessara grinned. "I'm going to teach you how to fight. Like a Commander. No more 'winging it'."

River turned and groaned into his pillow. "Why do I get the feeling that I am not going to enjoy this as much as you will?"

"Oh, you're right, don't worry."

*************

Everything hurt. Kess had hit him, albeit lightly, over and over again. She'd said the most important thing about hand-to-hand combat was being able to defend yourself, but River was pretty sure it was just an excuse for her to bat him around a little bit.

She'd dragged him to the top deck, so the wind whipped at their clothes and hair. Kess had to shout so he could hear her over the howling seas, and the intense rocking of the boat made it difficult to keep their balance, but Kess didn't seem to care.

She had him standing in front of her, elbows up to his face with one foot in front of the other. She'd thrown some light punches at him, just to show him how to block, and he'd picked it up easily. Then, she moved on to kicks. She threw a roundhouse kick to his side, without any force, just to show him what it looked like. She instructed him to grab her leg and lift it up. He obliged, and watched as she stumbled backward. She explained that kicking high only worked with someone who didn't know how to fight, and if he was going to use his legs, he should aim low, to kick out his opponent's feet and get them on the ground.

He would never admit it, but he was learning, a lot actually. Kess was an excellent teacher, very knowledgeable but also demanded respect. River found that he'd stopped talking to her, staying silent just to absorb everything she said, and followed every one of her directions without complaint.

She smiled when he picked things up quickly and that made his chest hurt. He knew he'd already made his decision. He'd never really been smiled at, save for Avalon's manic grins. He'd always learned through punishment. If he screwed up, he got the whip. Or the darkness. Or the words. He'd never been taught through praise. Not even with his parents, who had been content to forget his existence altogether. So, when she smiled at him, he couldn't resist smiling himself. He'd already made his decision. He could afford to get close to her now.

"You've got defense down pretty well," she said, placing her hands on her hips. She'd pulled her chocolatey hair into a high ponytail, but after a few hours of training, the shorter hairs around her hairline stuck to her forehead. Her face was flushed just slightly, but her breathing was still even. Even he had to admit, she had impressive stamina.

"Now let's do some offensive maneuvers. Try to hit me."

River blanched. "What?"

"Just do it, dumbass."

Well, he couldn't argue with that. Besides, after hours of being hit, he'd love to dish some out himself. So, he stepped forward and threw a punch, a right hook to the side of her face. She caught his fist easily, but held it there.

"Look where your other hand is."

He looked. His elbow was back down by his hip. Right, defensive position.

"Now, if I decide to do this," she mimed a punch, straight to his jaw, "I would hit your knockout button, and you'd be dead soon after that. Keep your elbow up."

She'd explained before that the nose and the jaw were the 'knockout buttons', and hitting them would greatly turn the tide for him. But in turn, he had to protect his own.

"Got it."

She nodded. "Try again."

He did, and remembered to keep his left elbow up near his jaw. This time, she ducked, and the force of his punch sent him careening off balance.

Kess chuckled. "Better with your elbow, but you have to keep your balance. When you throw a hook, step out with the same foot, like this." She demonstrated, throwing a mock left-hook and stepping sideways with her left foot.

"If you do that, you can use your body to add force to the hit, but also keep you balance. Try again."

And so, he did, adding the step and keeping his left elbow up near his jaw. She ducked again, but he kept his balance this time, going back to the standard defensive position.

"See that?" she smiled again. "That was much better. You kept your balance, and stayed defensive. Good. Try again."

And he did. Again, and again for hours. At some point he switched to using his left arm, and then they transferred to basic combinations. She explained what a jab and cross was, and had him throw them in a sequence; jab, jab, cross, hook.

Then she added kicks. She explained that using your feet isn't just about kicking. She demonstrated, sticking her foot between his as he turned around to step backward, and pulling, effectively knocking him flat on his face.

"Ow!"

"See?"

Before he knew it, they were sparring. River could tell she was going easy on him, but he kept up just fine. Instead of punching him, she would just tap his face when he let his guard down. She roundhouse-kicked his side and he grabbed her foot, lifting it up until she stumbled backward.

"Good," she murmured, before going a little harder. Kess was fast, but he was too. He saw what she was going to do before she did it and took steps to block. Jab, jab, cross, kick.

"Keep that arm up," she warned, before ducking under a right-hook. She bounced around him on the balls of her feet, forcing him to turn in a circle to stay facing her.

She went to plant a push-kick straight to his chest, but he saw an opening. He dropped low, and faster than a striking snake, he kicked her supporting leg out from under her. She stumbled onto her back, using her hands to break the fall.

River immediately leapt backward. She was going to kill him; he was sure of it.

But his jaw dropped to the floor when she squinted at him.

"No one's been able to do that for a long time. I'm impressed."

"Who are you?" he blurted.

"Shut up."

Suddenly, blindingly bright lights switched on from the top of the mast of the boat. New crew members appeared from the cabins and switched places with the original ones, and in the background, he could hear the captain shouting orders to 'set sail to the Meridian Star'. River hadn't even realized that night had fallen. The moons were still low on the horizon, so the night was young, but, well, he got distracted.

"Let's end it there for today," Kess said.

"Agreed."

*****************

River was a natural fighter. She was surprised how quickly he'd picked things up. His technique was great for a beginner, and his reflexes had already been blinding fast. Surprisingly, he'd stopped talking long enough for her to teach him, and seemed genuinely interested in learning.

They both collapsed onto their beds. The day had been draining, both mentally and physically.

"At least we'll both get a full night's sleep," River said, voice muffled by his pillow.

"Yeah, we both need it."

Kessara kicked off her boots, peeling off her ruined cloak and chucking it into on 9of her bags. River shrugged off his leather jacket and set to work unlacing his jerkin.

Soon she just wore her black tank-top and tight black pants, River still wearing his long-sleeved black shirt and cargo pants. He stretched out on his stomach, twining his arms around his pillow, and within seconds, his breathing slowed to a calmer, steadier rhythm.

Kessara unwound her chocolate waves and began to brush them. The wind from the Dead Zone waters did nothing to combat tangles, so she had to clam down on yelps as the comb's teeth caught the knots.

But soon enough, she managed to tame her hair, and she too curled up on her bed, facing the door, and closed her eyes.

Her dreams came again.

 _The same one as always. That demon tearing out her soldier's heart, still pumping in its hand as he collapsed, lifeless to the ground. But she knew what was going to happen next. She couldn't even scream, because of the rope around her neck. She couldn't breathe, she needed_ air _. She tried to suck in a breath, but only managed strangled gasping as the air got caught in her throat. Her lungs burned, her neck stinging as she clawed at the rope..._

"Kessara!"

Kessara gasped, sitting straight up. Her heart raced, chest heaving, vision black, but she could _breathe-_

"Kess?"

That voice again. Familiar, but still far away. She followed the sound, deep and rough around the edges. She latched onto it, and let it pull her back, up and up into...

Her bed. Kessara was back in her bed, sitting up, wrists stinging. She looked down to find out why, and discovered River's white-knuckled grip on them.

"What...what's going on?" she breathed. His face was inches from hers, icy eyes filled with concern.

He let go of her wrists, as if suddenly realizing he was still holding them, and sat as far back on her bed as he could.

"You were having a nightmare. I heard you gasping, and you were clawing at your neck again. I tried to stop you, but..."

Kessara resisted the urge to flinch as he reached over, brushing his fingers lightly against her skin. They came away red.

He wiped them, her _blood_ , on his pants.

Kessara didn't know what to say. This was new to her, these dreams. And it happened again, she physically injured herself in her sleep. She was dangerous.

She reached over for her ruined cloak, tearing another piece off and pressing it to her throat. She silently cursed the lack of mirrors in this tiny bunk.

"Here, let me see."

He gently peeled away the fabric to examine the wounds and she tilted her head up so he could see better.

After a few loaded moments, he spoke.

"They're superficial wounds, just light scratches, so you should be fine."

Kessara breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thanks," she said, managing a grateful smile, despite her worries.

He just nodded.

"There's still a few hours until sunrise. We should try to get some more sleep."

******************

Savannah ran.

She didn't know what else to do. It was just like in the legends. The shredded books, the red eyes...

The manic laughter, laughter that came out of her mother. Her mother, who never laughed.

So, she ran like her life depended on it. Because after what she'd seen in that room, she had no doubt it did.

But, how could she? How could her mother do that, to herself, to her people? How could she spend almost two decades fighting the very thing she'd just become?

She rounded a corner at top speed, nearly slamming into the wall to do so.

Savannah was vaguely aware that she was crying, sobbing, actually, but she didn't care. Not after seeing...that.

She knew why she was feeling such dread and despair.

She flew down the hallway, swinging into the Commander wing. _Sanlyn, Everette, Pitwood, Dusktaker..._

She pounded on Alaric's door, begging him to open it.

And burst into tears when he did.

"Princess, what's wrong?" he asked, pulling her into his quarters by the elbow. He shut the door and once she heard the lock click, she collapsed to her knees, and choked out the answer.

"Demons. There are demons in the castle."


	30. Chapter 30

Kessara had River back on the mat the next morning, putting together combinations and skills in an easy sparring match.

But it wasn't easy, not with the rocking of the boat getting stronger and stronger by the hour. There were times she and River had to dive for the railing as to not be thrown overboard. Rain poured in sheets down on them, soaking them to the skin, and a thick blanket of fog had settled all around them.

Kessara could tell the crew was getting anxious. She could cut the tension in the air with her gold knife.

They were practicing at the bow of the boat, the only place mostly uninhabited by the working crew members, and also so Kessara could see straight ahead. She liked having visibility, liked to be able to visualize the entire battlefield before her, to see where weaknesses were, where she needed reinforcements.

Or she would have, if the fog didn't make it impossible to see a meter in front of the figure-head.

The Dead Zone was famous for its sea monsters and jagged rocks. So, where were they? It all felt too easy, just rough seas and rainy weather didn't seem bad enough to be the root of all the legends.

She was grateful for the distraction that River provided. He was improving tremendously, even with the ship rocking and diving. He'd begun to pick up her own personal fighting style; forceful, commanding. She doubted he could produce much force anyways, considering how thin he was. But he was fast, so fast that she actually had to work to keep up with him.

They hadn't spoken of what happened the night before. The scratches on her neck were nearly gone now, after she'd smeared some ointment on them. She still caught River eyeing her throat, as if he could still see the blood dripping from it, during their spar.

He threw a perfect jab and she caught his wrist, flipping him expertly over her shoulder so his back slammed to the deck.

"Ow!"

He glared at her.

"I won. Again," she smirked. She offered her hand and he took it, wincing as he pulled himself to his feet.

"Best three out of five, lets go again," he panted, putting his elbows up in a ready position.

She shrugged. "Fine, but I'm gonna win again."

"We'll see about that."

River, surprisingly, went on the offensive this time. He got in her space, forcing her backwards. She ducked under a punch, but he was already there, kicking her legs out from under her. She stumbled back, but managed to keep her balance. He threw a cross, and she ducked again, stepping forward as to get behind him, and kneed him in the back of his legs, effectively causing him to fall to his knees. But just as she was about to tap his temple, he dove into a roll, springing up a few meters away with his arms up.

Kessara grinned.

"Nice move."

He smiled back. "I know."

"Cocky-"

Right as she was about to leap for him again, the ship tipped hard to the side, and they went tumbling backward. Her back hit the deck, and she skidded down toward the opposite rail, clawing at anything she could to slow her fall, but it didn't matter. Not when the boat tipped back in the other direction as it sailed over another enormous wave. Kessara and River went flying forward into the railing. She yelped as the hard, wooden rail slammed against her ribs, hearing a dull crack from her right side. _Dammit,_ she thought, wincing. The boat rocked again, and she and River clasped wrists to keep from going flying again.

Her heart pounded, her ribs throbbed, and her lungs burned with each heaving breath as the air turned salty and moist with sea-spray.

This was the Dead Zone she expected, and something was very, very wrong.

She could hear the horse's whinnying in fear, and her chest ached. She hoped their legs were still intact with all the rocking, but she couldn't check on them now. Not when her instincts were going haywire.

Was it a sea monster? A supernatural storm? Some sick combination of both, sent by the Ethereals to test them?

She and River locked eyes, and they both bolted for the front railing of the bow, Kessara holding her right side as her obvious broken ribs popped and ground against each other.

They somehow made it to the very end of the bow amid all the swaying of the ship. She squinted through the fog, trying to find a source for the massive, violent waves, her white-knuckled grip on the railing the only thing keeping her from getting tossed around. But the fog and rain were too thick to see from her perspective.

"I can't see anything," River shouted to her over the deafening noise.

Suddenly, the crew member in the crow's nest started screaming.

" _Serpent's Teeth!"_

Serpent's Teeth? What were serpent's Teeth?

She tried to see through the fog again, and gasped as a massive rock, taller than one of the spires of the Cobalt castle, appeared in front of them. It was mere meters away, and directly in the ship's path. They had no time to turn around it.

Those were serpent's teeth.

And they were going to die.

_No._

Kessara threw her arms up to the sky, yanking down as much ethereal energy as she could in a split second, and blasted it in a glowing blue torpedo at the center of the rock.

It shattered with a thunderous boom, chunks of stone crashing down toward the ship, splashing them with salty water as the rocks hit the water.

The crew kept screaming, but Kessara blocked it out, concentrating on widening that thread tying her power core to the reserve of energy in Etherea She only barely had enough to shatter that rock, and she couldn't be caught with nothing again. If she broke her concentration, re-tying that thread would take precious seconds, time she didn't have. So, she focused on wrapping that thread tighter and tighter around her power core, and the fog ahead while shards of jagged rock fell all around her.

Vaguely, she felt River grab her by the waist and pull her against him, and a blanket of pure darkness domed over the her and the ship. Rocks hit it, clanging slightly before rolling off of it to the sides of the ship. Kessara kept her eyes fixed straight ahead.

The ship sailed right through where the rock used to be, but right behind it, another massive spire of stone, this one even bigger than the first.

She threw out her power, a glowing blue spike straight through it again, River's shield of darkness protecting the ship as the rubble crashed down. She blasted through more and more towering rocks, praying to the Goddess that her stamina would last, that her reflexes were fast enough.

Kessara could feel her energy fading, but she kept her eyes trained straight ahead, at the next rocks to come.

River still held her to him, holding her upright and steady against the rocking ship as she launched bolt after bolt of glowing energy toward the massive rock spikes that seemed to get closer and closer together with every one she destroyed.

The Goddess must have had it in for Kessara that day. The ship lurched forward, and her broken ribs rammed into the railing.

She cried out in agony, bone crunching against bone, and her grip on that fateful thread that tied her to Etherea went slack. Just as another rock appeared in their path.

Kessara scrambled to reform that connection, calling down as much energy as she could in a fraction of a second, but it wasn't fast enough.

The ship struck the Serpent's Tooth, wood splintering as the force of it sent everyone aboard plummeting into the freezing cold water.


	31. Chapter 31

Kessara felt River's fingers leave her side when they fell into the water. It was a stupid thing to think about, and when she plunged into the icy-cold sea, all thoughts were replaced by an instinctual need to _breathe._

Kessara sucked in a lungful of water.

Her chest burned, panic setting in as she thrashed and screamed silent, underwater screams. She coughed out the water, only to breathe in more.

She couldn't breathe.

She clawed at her throat, feeling the phantom burn of the rope, her legs kicking out at nothing.

She couldn't breathe.

The surface of the water kept getting farther and farther away...

"Breathe, Commander."

Kessara's stomach heaved and she leaned over, despite her ribs barking in protest, hacking and retching up water into a metal bucket.

Her lungs burned, throat stinging as she coughed up more and more water.

Finally, she wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

Her _dry_ sleeve.

She was laying in a bed, like the beds in the Hospital Wing back home. Someone had changed her clothes, switching out her inevitably wet Commander uniform into a simple grey shirt and black pants.

The boat, the freezing water...what happened?

She looked up, glancing around to find whoever spoke to her, and found a guy around her age with honey-blonde hair and bright hazel eyes striding toward her.

A low growl sounded from the bed next to her, and River's voice, deep and rough around the edges, snarled, "Stay away from her."

Kessara would have looked at him, to see how he was doing, but she was too focused on the stranger, who had stopped dead in his tracks.

"You. I know you. You wrapped my hand in Wallowdale."

The blonde-haired guy smiled brightly.

"Thank the Goddess, your memory is intact. You were out for a while before we got to you."

He glanced nervously beside her, and Kessara followed his gaze.

River was lying on his stomach on the bed next to her, wearing similar grey clothes to hers. His raven-black hair stuck out at odd angles, and his face was an ashy-grey colour, but his icy eyes fixated on healer who stood a few feet away. If looks could kill, the poor guy would have been a puddle on the floor.

"Hey man," the healer said, "My name is Charlie, I'm just a healer. And I'm pretty sure she could kill me without blinking, so she's completely safe, I assure you. I just need to check her ribs and make sure there's no residual water in her lungs."

"Ignore him," Kessara said, putting a hand out to silence River, "Do what you need to do."

Charlie glanced at River again, and walked up to her bedside. When she lifted her shirt up, she finally noticed the stiff, white bandage banded around her torso. Charlie placed his fingers on the spot where they had slammed into the railing, and closed his eyes.

River watched his every breath.

The dull ache in Kessara's ribs was replaced by a sort of numb tingle. River squinted at Charlie.

"You'd better start talking, healer," he growled.

"What do you want to know?" Charlie replied cheerfully, seemingly unbothered by River's attempted insult.

Kessara resisted the urge to snort.

"What happened, where are we, why _you_ arehere. You know, standard questions."

Charlie removed his fingers from her side and wiped his hands with a clean towel. Her ribs felt much better, the constant ache gone completely, with only a little pain when she breathed deeply. He was good at what he did.

"Well, you're in the sick-bay of my ship, sailing east through the Dead Zone to the Wallowdale harbor. We found you two floating unconscious in the water just outside the Serpent's Teeth just about ten minutes ago. As for why I'm here? After you gave me all that Aurum, Commander, I had enough money to buy a ship to cross the Aspero Channel and pick up my best friend Daemien. He always dreamed of coming to Cygnis, joining the Intelligence Division, but was stuck in Khelsia..."

"Charlie! _Useful_ information, please."

"Right, sorry." He glared at River, who snickered. "So I picked up Daemien and his two friends Allesia and Sloane, and we were just in the middle of sailing back to Wallowdale when we saw glowing blue light shooting out a few kilometers east of us."

Kessara's power. They'd seen her blast through all that rock.

Charlie continued.

"So we decided to take a look. Your boat was in splinters."

Kessara's heart stopped.

"The crew?" she asked tentatively.

Charlie's bright hazel eyes dimmed.

"I'm sorry."

Kessara felt her eyes burn, felt that lump in her throat.

"Moonbeam?" she asked, though already knew the answer.

Charlie looked at her with pity.

Her eyes slid to River, whose own icy eyes had softened. Sorrow, and understanding.

Kessara's breath hitched. She could almost hear the cracking of her heart, and she put her hand on it, as if she could hold it together...

Her beloved horse, gone. Just like that.

Kessara hated crying. Especially in front of other people. It just made her look weak; look emotional. It proved those men who had mocked her on her first day right. But she couldn't hold back the tears beginning to roll down her face.

She'd failed him. Moonbeam was her responsibility, and her stupid broken ribs had cost him, and all the crew, their lives.

She put her head in her hands, unable to stop her shoulders from shaking with quiet sobs.

At some point, she felt the mattress shift as someone sat next to her. Felt them put a comforting hand on her knee.

Kessara knew who it was, just by his smell; woodsmoke and salt. She didn't jerk her knee away, but didn't remove her hands from her face.

"I know how much you loved Moonbeam," River's voice, lowered to a whisper, said in her ear. "And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for your loss."

Kessara just cried harder.

She didn't know how long they sat there, River's warm breath caressing her ear as the tears still burned her eyes.

But when Kessara had decided that was enough weakness for the day, she peeled her hands, damp from her tears, away from her face.

She took a deep, shaky breath, and steadied her shaking hands. Swallowed the lump in her throat. And looked at River.

He was instantly standing, like she'd burned him, ripping his hand away from her knee.

Kessara instantly felt colder, the disappearance of the contact like a shock to her system. River looked away, suddenly becoming very focused on grabbing her a handkerchief to wipe her still-damp eyes.

He awkwardly handed her the cloth, right as the doorknob to the sick bay turned.

Kessara leapt to a standing position, her hand flying to her hip for her gold dagger-

Her fingers closed around the air where her dagger should have been.

But, thank the Goddess, Charlie walked in. She hadn't even noticed he left.

He leapt backward, putting his hands up in surrender when he noticed their fighting stance.

"This is why we disarmed you," was all he said.

River's snarl was enough to make him take another step back.

"Where are our weapons, healer?"

Charlie swallowed.

"In the armoury on the top deck."

Kessara wiped the dampness from her cheeks, and smoothly stepped in between River and Charlie. She didn't need a brawl right now, and River getting all alpha-male was certainly _not_ helping.

"Take us to them. And let us meet your friends."

And so, he did.

The doors to the sickbay lead out to a narrow wooden staircase, lit only by small oil lamps hanging from the ceiling and the natural light that came from what was no-doubt the top deck. Kessara's healing ribs ached with every step, but she didn't let it show. Not when she was a Commander, and had endured much worse injuries.

Kessara wondered if Charlie's skilled hands could heal cracks in the heart, as well as bone.

Charlie chatted with them about this or that, talked about the struggle it was to haul their unconscious bodies down the steps, but Kessara only half-listened. She was too focused on summoning the willpower to stand up straight. To square her shoulders and tilt her chin up high.

She could feel River's eyes on her, but she didn't so much as glace at him. She couldn't afford to start crying again, especially not when they were about to meet the remaining crew-members on this ship. No, she needed to look strong. In control. Like the most powerful sorceress in the world. Like a Commander.

Her eyes burned from the blinding daylight as they emerged from the belly of the ship on the deck in between the masts.

First thing she noticed was how much bigger it was than their original boat. It had two masts right in the center of the ship, each adorned with Cygnis blue sails. It was clean, with no rotting holes or missing planks of wood, which made Kessara breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe this one would hold out for longer than the last one did.

Charlie waved a lazy hand.

"That's Daemien. He's a better driver than I am."

At the helm stood a man who could only be described as elegant. Serene. Beautiful. He wore a midnight black suit over a black button-down, embroidered in silver at the collar and cuffs that glinted in the sunlight with every movement of the wheel. His dark brown skin and close-cropped hair made him look extra regal as he steered the boat with complete and utter confidence.

"I want to meet him," Kessara said. She needed to feel out these people, get a sense of their strengths and weaknesses, what she could exploit, if the need arose. River's jaw clenched at her words, but relaxed just as quickly. She frowned. Weird.

Charlie lead them to the stairs and gestured for them to follow.

The man, Daemien, turned around as soon as he heard the click-click-click of Kessara's boots on the wood. River, of course, walked silently behind her, his footfalls like a cat's.

He dropped to one knee and bowed deeply before her, and Kessara couldn't help watching the movement.

His grace almost rivaled River's, and all Kessara could think was how he could be an excellent spy.

"Commander Blackrose, it is an honor to meet you."

Kessara inclined her chin, owning every bit of power she carried.

"And you as well, Daemien...?"

"Rowland, Commander. Daemien Rowland."

Kessara turned her attention to Charlie, a smooth motion, lazy, unbothered.

"How did you two meet?"

The brightness in Charlie's hazel eyes dimmed. Daemien's mouth tightened into a hard line.

Hm, she hit a nerve there. Kessara stayed silent, prompting them to fill it with answers.

Unsurprisingly, it was Charlie who did.

"We met in the slums of Olania as eleven-year-old boys."

Oh, there was more. Much, much more to this story. But Kessara didn't think pressing them about it, especially this early into the game, was a good idea. They had saved their lives, after all. River must have sensed it too, and changed the subject.

"I heard you want to be a spy," he said lazily, icy eyes sliding to Daemien. Daemien, to his credit, didn't flinch.

"With all due respect as a companion of a Commander," he said, "but who, might I ask, are you?"

Kessara almost laughed out loud. She instantly knew she liked Daemien after that, but took a casual step between the two men as she felt every muscle in River's body tense at the words.

She looked at River with a smile that said _go on, tell him_.

He just glared at her, but pasted a cocky grin on his face.

"Ever heard of the _Shadow_?" he drawled.

Daemien paled, just slightly, at that, but didn't break River's stare.

"I have. The second most powerful sorcerer in the world, and Avalon's spy."

River's jaw clenched at Avalon's name, icy eyes burning with something deep. Ancient. Something that made his face twist into an expression that was downright murderous.

Daemien didn't balk, his features emotionless. Charlie was glancing back and forth between then, as if gauging how much healing he had to do if they kept speaking to one another like this. Kessara was debating the same. Why River was being so territorial, she had no idea. It wasn't like she needed protection, and these men had saved both of their lives.

Kessara nearly groaned when Daemien spoke again, this time to her.

"Has the war truly grown serious enough that the queen has you hunting down false hope?"

River made to take a step toward Daemien, heat nearly radiating from his skin, and Daemien matched it with a step of his own, his face still neutral.

Charlie, who had taken over the wheel, locked eyes with Kessara over his shoulder. This wouldn't end well. What the hell was wrong with River?

Faster than lightning, Kessara had stepped between the two men, a hand on both of their chests to keep them from getting any closer.

"Boys, let's think with our _upstairs_ brains, shall we? I doubt poor Charlie wants to keep cleaning up after us."

Her tone was light, but she still glared at River, a silent order to stand down.

He glared one more time at Daemien, whose expression still hadn't changed. But he took a step back, plunging his hands into the pockets of his grey sweatpants. A smart decision.

Kessara turned back to Charlie.

"You mentioned two others, Allesia and Sloane?"

An effort the ease the tension in the air. It worked, she could tell, as the rigidity in River's shoulders softened slightly.

"Oh yeah! Wait right here." He bolted down the steps, presumably in search of them.

The silence that followed threatened to suffocate her. Daemien had smoothly returned to steering the boat, seemingly unbothered by the earlier conversation. River, on the other hand, had gone back to brooding in the opposite corner.

Kessara was still reeling from how fast he could turn. This man, scowling at Daemien's back, was not the man who'd sat next to her while she cried over her beloved horse, holding her knee while his warm breath caressed her ear, just mere minutes ago. This man she had to hold back from brawling with Daemien over some petty taunts. She had to figure out what was wrong with him, before he made enemies of allies.

"Excuse us, Daemien," she said coolly, "We are going back to the sickbay for a few minutes."

She marched over to River, grabbed him by the arm, and growled into his ear,

"Sickbay, now."

She was glad he knew better than to resist as she dragged him down the steps.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she demanded, slamming the door shut behind her.

He held out his hands, palms up in surrender. That branded eye seemed to glare at her.

"He was taunting me."

Kessara shook her head, furiously.

"No, River. You taunted him first. First Charlie, who was just trying to heal us, and now Daemien, who barely asked you a question. What's got you so on edge?"

He looked at her incredulously.

"Oh, I don't know, Kess. Maybe because we're on a foreign boat with foreign people in the middle of the freaking _Dead Zone?_ "

Kessara snarled.

"Do not speak to me with such disrespect-"

"I'll speak to you how I damn well please."

Every muscle in Kessara's body went taught as a wire. Red hot anger coiled in her chest, her fingers curling into fists by her sides.

She strode toward him, feeling that heat in her chest boil hotter and hotter...

She punched him in the face. Blood sprayed from his mouth, and he went sprawling backward, but Kessara stalked after him, grabbing him by the chin and yanking him up to his knees. He didn't make a sound, even though his lip was split, a nasty bruise already forming at the corner of his mouth. He just stared right back at her, panting heavy breaths.

"You've been itching for a fight since we woke up," she growled, just inches from his face, "I don't know why, but you're damn lucky it ended with me, and not one of them up there. We still do not know who these people are, and you mocking and provoking them is very, very dangerous. You will make enemies of allies, and we cannot afford that right now. So, whatever's got your panties in a twist, you'd better deal with it _now_. Because next time, I won't pull my punch."

Kessara let him go, taking a calculated step back. He, at least, had the pride to stand back up. Good, her respect for him had been depleting.

"Go clean your face. When you walk back up on deck, you'd better be smiling."

He, surprisingly, wisely, silently walked over to the sink. Obeying her order.

Kessara turned on her heel, and strode for the stairs.

She'd delivered similar punishments countless times to her men. A relatively light hit, enough to stun, but not enough to injure, to teach a lesson about respect. She never felt guilt for it, in fact feeling more powerful, more in control as soldiers rebellious to a female Commander slowly fell into line.

But this time felt different. Maybe because she knew River wasn't just another defiant soldier. A strange feeling settled into her gut, a feeling she didn't know how to place, but knew she didn't like.

She would apologize later, she told herself. She would talk to him later. Right now, she needed to establish allies.


	32. Chapter 32

It was less than thirty seconds after Kessara stepped on to the top deck before River joined her.

He, unsurprisingly, shot her a cocky grin, that wicked purple bruise at the corner of his mouth twisting with it.

Kessara's nostrils flared. But she didn't balk as he fell into step beside her, a silent prowl like a panther, toward the helm of the ship. She just dutifully ignored him.

They marched up the steps to the wheel.

Daemien still stood like a dancer, dark eyes fixed on the horizon, Charlie wringing his fingers by his side.

But two others stood against the stern railing, staring at the western waters, back the way they came. Their backs were to her, but Kessara could tell they were women, one with waist-length red-brown hair, strangely wearing light-weight gold armor over a long-sleeved knee-length red dress. The other's hair was rod-straight, sliced off at the shoulders, and looked like she'd dipped it in molten silver. All Kessara could see of her clothing were the heels of her combat boots and her thick, black cloak.

Charlie noticed their arrival first.

"Commander!" Charlie smiled brightly at them. "The Shadow. May I speak to you?"

River raised an eyebrow, but agreed, shooting Kessara a look that said, I'll be with you later as Charlie grabbed him by the arm and dragged him below deck.

She nodded, turning back to the two women. They both turned around to face her at the same time.

Daemien gracefully gestured to the one in the red dress, "This is Allesia," and to the silver-haired one, "and Sloane."

They were both stunningly beautiful. Allesia's face was lovely, almost supernaturally beautiful, with amber eyes that seemed to dance with excitement as she took in Kessara. Her eyes were rimmed with gold shadow, her lips painted red to match her long-sleeved, knee-length dress. Kessara wondered about the practicality of the outfit for the open sea, but, well, she rocked the look.

Sloane was her opposite in every way. Her eyes matched her hair, a molten silver that seemed to swim with curiosity, studying Kessara through squinted lids. Her face was expressionless, severe, which seemed to match her all-black outfit. Black pants, black shirt, black cloak and a black leather belt, jammed in which were black-bladed daggers.

Sloane bowed deeply at the waist, and Kessara watched her eyes slide to Allesia, prompting her to do the same.

Allesia fumbled through a curtsy, grinning ear-to-ear at Kessara.

"By the Goddess, I'm your biggest fan!" she squealed.

Kessara blanched. She didn't know she had fans.

A hint of a smile tugged at Daemien's mouth.

"I-"

"Do you know how awesome it is to finally have a badass female Commander?" Allesia continued.

Oh, Kessara instantly liked her. Liked her a lot, actually.

"It was a lot of work."

Allesia nodded enthusiastically. "I bet. You know, I always dreamed of becoming a Commander when I was little."

Kessara smiled.

"Why didn't you?"

Allesia looked away, her vibrance fading, just slightly. Sloane put a comforting hand on her shoulder, a stiff, almost forced gesture. Interesting...

"I'm a half-breed. No powers that I know of, so I can't join the forces at all."

Kessara cocked her head. "I'm sorry."

Allesia waved a dismissive hand. "There are always other options."

"You know, we could always use more healers," Kessara offered. Healers were held to near the same level as Generals. "especially on the battlefield."

Allesia's amber eyes lit up. "But, I don't have healing powers like Charlie."

"You don't need them."

Allesia glanced over to the bow of the ship. East, toward home.

"Charlie wants to go study at the Sana Collegium to become a battlefield healer. I might go with him."

Kessara sketched a brow.

The Sana Collegium was the most prestigious healing school in Orbis. The best healers, those who work in the castle or in war zones had graduated from the school. It was situated in Polaris, just outside the Caelum City, a massive campus partially carved into one of the Glacie mountains. Only the toughest, most complex injuries and ailments went to the Sana Collegium, to be treated by the best healers in Orbis. Kessara had never been, but some of her soldiers with broken spines and demonic diseases had. They'd all returned to the army better than ever. However, acceptance was extremely limited. Only the healers with the most potential could make it in to the program, and fewer still made it to graduation. Charlie may very well be successful, what with his natural healing magic, but if Allesia wanted the same, she would have to work much, much harder.

All Kessara could say was, "Good luck."

******************

"What's your real name?" Charlie asked cheerfully.

It took a lot of effort to answer truthfully.

"River."

He wasn't on a mission. He wasn't going to get whipped for exposing his identity. He wasn't going to add more scars to his collection. He had nothing to lose in telling Charlie his name.

River forced himself to think logically. In the past, if he revealed anything, he failed. And failure had consequences. Painful ones.

But Avalon didn't hold his leash anymore, the faerie queen did. And he'd already accepted those consequences.

Charlie gave him a weird look over his shoulder at River's forced reply, before opening the door to the sick bay. He just glared back.

River didn't trust anybody on this stupid boat. It wasn't as if they'd done anything to make him suspicious. In fact, they'd been nothing but helpful; especially Charlie. But he just...couldn't bring himself to let his guard down. The last time he grew lax in his defenses was ten years ago. He would never, ever make that mistake again.

So, as he followed Charlie back into the sickbay, he kept his stance light, his fingers curled into fists, ready for a fight, even though he doubted Charlie would hurt a fly.

He locked the door behind River.

River stiffened. He could almost hear Avalon's manic cackle as she walked away from his cell. It was so dark in there, so small and cramped. No windows, nothing but darkness and stone walls and screaming and howling and-

"River? Are you okay?"

Charlie's voice yanked River back to the present, back to the sickbay on his ship. East, east toward the Caelum City.

"Unlock the door."

Charlie frowned. "What happened?"

"Please," River closed his eyes, trying to keep his breathing even, "please, just...unlock it."

Charlie silently unlocked the door.

River inhaled deeply. He wasn't trapped. He was free. He was free...

"Why did you need to talk to me?" he demanded.

Charlie wandered over to a nearby table, grabbing a box out from underneath.

"First of all, you're extremely malnourished." He handed him a strip of dried pork. "Eat."

River figured it could be poisoned, or just really disgusting, but his mouth watered anyway. He hadn't eaten since before he and Kess boarded that doomed ship, and he was already skin and bones before that.

He took a bite. And it was delicious. Well, in comparison to the random edible plants he was forced to consume on his journey to Khelsia. And rare strips of dried beef he and Kess had been forced to share. He'd noticed her bones starting to jut out more as well, her jaw sharper, her hip-bones stark against her skin.

It was only two more weeks until they made it to the city, four days until they made it to Wallowdale. Then Kess could eat real food, get her strength back.

He as well, of course, although he knew it didn't matter as much.

"Secondly," Charlie continued, grabbing River by the wrist, half dragging him over to the cot he woke up in, "I'm going to fix that nasty bruise."

Oh right, that. He didn't blame Kess for hitting him. He was being a jackass, and she was right in saying he could be screwing potential alliances. The looming deadline must have been screwing with him. As well as the growing, throbbing pain in the lashes on his back. He didn't trust these people, he wondered if he ever would, but being a jerk wouldn't save their asses if his instincts were right. Better to be civil, however difficult it may be.

And that Daemien guy just got under skin. He was too similar to River himself, and his blood boiled when he noticed Kess studying him with her pretty green eyes; the way she usually studied him when she thought he couldn't tell.

Charlie put his hands up to River's face, and he flinched away.

"Don't touch me," he growled.

Charlie shrugged. "Don't need to."

His fingers remained, hovering over River's face, and within a few seconds, the dull ache ceased to nothing.

Charlie dropped his hands. "There. Now, as for why I asked you down here."

River remained sitting, shocked at his nonchalant attitude. And how fast he'd healed his bruise. If Charlie weren't here, that would have taken a week to fade, maybe two to heal. But it was gone, just like that. He wondered if Charlie's power could heal other injuries...

No. His wounds were bound by magic. It was impossible for a healer, including a skilled one, to fix his back. He refused to get his hopes up, not after he'd already made peace with his fate.

"While you and Commander Blackrose were unconscious," Charlie said, sitting down on the bed across from him, "I examined and healed most of the cuts and scrapes on your bodies.

All the blood drained from River's face.

"Commander Blackrose was fine, just some broken ribs, but when we cut away your shirt," Charlie swallowed hard, "your back..."

He knew. Charlie knew about his wounds, that there was something different about them...

"I tried to heal them as best I could, but even my magic, it did nothing. I've never seen anything like it. It looks severely infected, River. You're going to die."

He fixed River with an uncharacteristically hard stare. "I need you to tell how you got them, and what magic is being used to keep them from healing.

River's heart pounded. You're going to die, you're going to die, you're going to die...

"No."

No one could know, no one could know about the faerie queen, about his horrible deal with her, about how he'd planned to send Kess to her death-

No one could know, especially not Kess. What if he were to say something, at inadvertently send the faeries after them? After her? He swore he would never kill another person as long as he lived. And with a little less than two weeks left of his sentence with queen Onagh, he wasn't about to break that vow now.

"I may be able to heal them if you tell me."

River shook his head, so hard his hair fell into his eyes.

"The answer is no." He stood up, looming over Charlie, despite his skinny, frail state, and poured every ounce of fury he could muster into a withering stare. "If you tell anybody about this, I will kill every single person on this damned ship, starting with that asshole Daemien."

An empty threat, but Charlie shrank back, just a little. Probably remembering his supposed thousands of kills. Not that he could remember most of them.

"We're done here."

River turned on his heel, adjusting his grey shirt over the new gauze that covered his lashings, and marched out the sickbay door.

****************

River's panther footsteps up to the helm were given away by the squeaky stairs, closely followed by Charlie, scrambling to keep up.

He smirked at her when she recoiled a bit.

The wicked purple bruise she'd just given him was completely gone, his skin unmarred as ever, save for his scar, of course. He stalked right up to her, his scent of salt and woodsmoke curling around her. Strange, that that smell lasted through getting tossed into the Dead Zone.

She had been idly chatting with Allesia and Sloane while River and Charlie were doing whatever they were doing. Sloane didn't say much, mostly watching Allesia talk about this or that, though Kessara got the feeling her silence was the opposite of weakness, that Sloane could and would put up a hell of a fight if Allesia was in danger. Allesia, on the other hand didn't stop talking. Kessara was used to chatty people, being near-sisters with Savannah and all, but Allesia was a whole other level. It was difficult to keep up with her sometimes, but her energy was infectious, not exhausting, and Kessara found herself less lethargic, her vision clearer, her limbs lighter.

"Sloane and Allesia, meet the Shadow, River Lockwood."

River flashed a predatory grin at her introduction, but as soon as the girls turned around, it melted away.

If River could get any paler, he did in that moment, jaw clenching so tight Kessara half-thought he'd break his teeth.

Sloane didn't look much better.

Her hand shot to her side, to one of the black daggers that hung from her belt, her silver eyes wide, taking a not-so-subtle step between River and Allesia.

Kessara took a casual step toward him, bracing herself to open the gate between her and Etherea if need-be.

But River and Sloane just stared at each other in silence.

"You," he breathed, "I remember you. From the palace."

Kessara whipped her head toward Sloane, searching her face for answers. Another witness, from enemy lands? Valuable, very valuable.

She just clutched the hilt of her dagger tighter, face nearly as white as River's.

River's bony fingers curled into fists, and Kessara prepared herself to tackle him if he tried anything. Charlie and Daemien's eyes flicked back and forth between them, Charlie staring at Kessara, as if begging her to do something. But she needed to know what this was about, to feel out how the dynamic between this group would play out. She needed information to keep both herself, and these new people, safe.

And this was a story River hadn't told her.

River's icy eyes were glazed, no doubt slammed by a memory. A feeling she knew all too well.

"You were in the next cell over," his voice a near whisper, "You gave me water once. To clean my lashings."

Kessara swallowed hard. She never realized, never realized that he lived in a cell, that that bitch Avalon had just dumped him in there after whipping him, without a healer, without anything to clean the wounds...

Sloane's elbow was twitching now, her grip on her dagger so tight her skin looked like it would tear.

River went on, holding Sloane's silver gaze. "She never, never whipped you. She never hurt you like she hurt me, did she?"

His near-glowing blue eyes were rimmed with silver, and at the sight of it, a dull roaring filled Kessara's head. Goddess, the horrors he must have gone through in that wretched castle.

She couldn't help her stupid, empathetic heart. She took another step toward him, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. It might have been her imagination, but he seemed to lean into the touch.

"River," Kessara said softly. A slight warning, an attempt to diffuse the tense situation. He tore his eyes away from Sloane's long enough to find hers. They were filled with something dark, raw, painful. But he snapped his head back when Sloane finally spoke.

"You were her plaything. She went straight to the words with me."

Something in River's eyes cracked at that.

The 'words'... what were the 'words'? How could that be any worse than nearly getting your eye carved out, getting your back torn to ribbons?

Kessara caught Daemien's eye, asking a silent question. He gave a subtle shake of his head. He didn't know what the 'words' were either.

"River," she said again, lacing more of a command through her voice. This conversation needed to end, here and now. She turned behind her, Allesia already a step ahead, gently leading a shaking Sloane toward the back railing of the helm.

He looked down at her again, his icy eyes empty. Kessara felt her own chest tighten at that look.

He never looked like that. So... devoid of life. It scared her, as much as she hated to admit it.

She gently took his arm, and pulled him toward the stairs. She cringed as her hand wrapped around hard bone of his elbow. Goddess, they needed to eat real food. Kessara needed to get back to the training ring, needed to hit something. Needed to feel strong again. And so did he, it seemed. He could never survive on a battlefield or on a mission without strength. And she didn't think she could stomach watching him try.

He didn't resist as she pulled him back down the stairs to the helm, and across the boat to the bow.


	33. Chapter 33

The wind was strong at the bow, the sea spray icy against her skin. Her tattered cloak was probably lying somewhere at the bottom of the Aspero Channel.

River was just staring at the open sea, which was strangely calm, his usually icy eyes now dull, lifeless.

She needed to know what the 'words' were. Partially to understand how the dynamic between the group would play out, and partially because that look on his face was freaking her out.

"River," she said gently, "I need you to tell me what the words are."

He didn't look at her.

Kessara narrowed her eyes, watching his throat bob, jaw clench.

Shame. That was shame written all over his face. River rarely gave her glimpses into his feelings, and yet he did nothing to hide the horrible guilt in his dull eyes.

She couldn't help herself.

"What are you so ashamed of?"

River tore his eyes away from the horizon, looking down at his feet.

Kessara watched him, using the silence to prompt him to fill it. She hoped to the Goddess he would fill it.

"When I first heard that I had been accredited with thousands of kills, I was surprised," he said finally. "Because I only remember about a hundred of them."

Kessara felt her blood run cold. He didn't remember anything? He didn't remember killing _thousands of people?_ But she kept her mouth shut, waiting for him to tell his own story.

"When I first arrived at Nox Palace, Avalon worked with some witches and alchemists, and came up with a potion. It latches on to your mind, seeps into your spinal fluid, your joints and brain, and controls your every movement. She forced it down my throat the night she gave me this," he brushed his fingers over his left cheek, down that scar through his eye, "and it's never faded away.

"Its activated by the words, and Avalon must have used it for every low-profile assassination she assigned. I don't remember killing them, I would just wake up in my cell covered in blood. I thought," his throat bobbed again, and he continued hoarsely, "I thought it was just another form of psychological torture, but later, when I refused to kill a child, she said the words, and I woke up with that child's teddy bear in my cell, covered in blood. That's when I knew, those words controlled me."

Kessara's throat tightened. Controlled, by the most sadistic, manic sorceress in the world. Not even knowing how many you've killed, becoming a monster, a creature that lives in the shadows, without ever knowing. Not having ownership of his own body, a mere puppet, a skin suit for Avalon to where whenever she felt.

She was going to kill her. She was going to rip that bitch's heart out for what she'd done. She was going to make her _suffer_ -

"Sloane was in the cell next to me for the whole time I was there," he continued, "There was a small hole, just large enough to fit an arm through, in the wall that divided us. I never knew her name, and she never spoke, just seeing her pass my door only twice. But once, after, after Avalon whipped me, she handed me water through that hole to clean them.

"Avalon let me stay lucid during more high-profile missions, believing that my own skills as an assassin would make the mission successful, rather than controlling my movements from her throne. I did my job well, but when I screwed that mission with the Olanian Royal family, she kept me in the dark for weeks afterward. I woke up with layers and layers on blood all over me."

Kessara's vision reddened. Layers, meaning the blood had dried, only for more to be spilled. He must have killed hundreds of people, all without knowing...

And to think, she hated him for being a murderer, not knowing he was barely lucid for most of it. A horrible feeling of guilt settled like a rock in her stomach.

She reached over, as if on instinct, and grabbed his hand. His fingers were bony, cold, no doubt from the malnutrition, his palms rough and calloused.

He whipped his head toward her, wide eyes dropping to their joined fingers, and Kessara fought the overwhelming urge to yank her hand back. But he squeezed gently, holding on to her fingers like they were a lifeline to the here and now. And...thank the Goddess, some of that glow returned to his eyes.

"She will die," Kessara said quietly, "she will die for what she's done."

River squeezed her fingers tighter. "We've been over this, Kess. If you kill her, you die as well."

Was...was that concern? Did he truly care if she lived or died?

As if reading her expression, his ghost-white face broke into a small smile.

"I dragged your ass out of the Dead Zone waters, Kess. What the hell do you think?"

Kessara almost sagged with relief at his tone. Less dead, more...vibrancy in his voice. More of that cockiness that she hadn't realized she missed.

"Well, it was actually Charlie and Daemien who scooped _us_ out of the Dead Zone waters," she corrected, knowing Daemien's name would get his blood pumping again. Kessara didn't know River's issue with the other boy, but it didn't really matter. She could keep the peace between them easily enough for now.

"We've also been over the fact that I don't care," Kessara said. "If I die, I'll be taking her with me. Sacrifice one to save the world."

River studied her for a few moments, icy eyes boring into hers. She steeled her spine against the urge to fidget.

"I assume I'm going with you on this mission to assassinate the dark queen," he said finally.

"Yes. I need your spying expertise to get into the palace."

He smirked. "Then you'd better keep teaching me to fight. I'm not going back there without knowing how to kick demon ass."

Kessara smiled back. "It's a deal."

A few moments passed before she dragged River back across the ship and up to the helm. It may be tense, but she needed to break the ice. These people could be valuable allies

Daemien gave him a harsh look, but River, true to character, flashed a wolfish smile in return. Sloane flinched at River's face, at the sight of his scar, but he was doing his best not to look at her at all.

The silence was deafening; Daemien and River sizing each other up, Sloane looking like she wanted to stab him though the neck just to never have to see him again. Kessara had to do _something._ She looked to Allesia, then Charlie, looking so breakable, so in need of protection if River or Daemien decided to act on their words.

"Allesia," Kessara called, an idea suddenly forming to ease the tension. "Charlie. Would you two join us for a fighting lesson?"

She was correct in her reading of the group. The stress in the room alleviated, just slightly, as Allesia squealed, actually _squealed_ , a yes, looping her arm through Charlie's and dragging him toward the stairs. He shot Daemien an unmistakeable 'help me' look, but Daemien, being a good friend, completely ignored him and turned back to steering the ship, a smile tugging at his mouth.

River laughed, following them down the steps with cat-soft feet.

Kessara let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Phew, tension eased, and the fighting lesson would ease her worries about protecting them if need-be. Plus it would build a relationship between her and River, and the rest of the group.

Sloane drifted over to the stern railing, gazing absently toward the thick fog they left behind. Kessara debated asking her to join, but decided Sloane and River, sparring together, would be a very very bad idea. She needed time, and so did River, so Kessara followed River down the stairs

She started with the basics; how to punch, jabs and crosses, staying light and nimble on their feet. Allesia took to it like a siren to water, excelling so much Kessara had her sparring with River within minutes. Charlie took some more time to get used to it, pulling his punches, always on the defensive, retreating away instead of fighting back. When she asked about it, he said he wanted to heal people, not hurt them. She promptly informed him that if he died, he couldn't heal anybody, and he began to loosen up after that.

A glance at River and Allesia had her frowning, however. Not that their technique was off, no that was excellent. But the fact that River kept wincing every time he dodged a hit, or moved at all, really. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, sweat pouring down his face and hairline.

She understood feeling out of breath faster than usual, after rarely eating and sleeping only a few hours at a time. Her own clothes seemed to get larger and larger by the day, her hips jutting out of her body, collar bones razor sharp, exhaustion like a permanent blanket hanging over her. But studying him now, he seemed to have lost even more weight. Kessara couldn't believe it was possible, but somehow the bones in his face looked sharper, his shoulders narrower, his jerkin laced up as tightly as it could go, yet still had gaps where his ribs couldn't fill it out. They'd only just started mere minutes ago, yet he looked like she usually did after hours and hours of training.

He caught her watching him, and flashed a grin that somehow didn't meet his eyes. Allesia, with impressive speed, took his moment of distraction to duck down low and swipe his feet out from under him. He landed on his back, yelping, face twisting in what she could only describe as agony. Her instincts were right, something was wrong.

Allesia leapt backward, hands flying to her face.

"Great Goddess are you okay?"

Kessara was already striding toward him, but he'd managed to get to his feet with a groan.

"Fine, I'm fine." He waved Allesia off with a tight smile. "Nice move."

Allesia beamed, but Kessara ordered her to spar with Charlie for a few minutes. River frowned at her. "I already told you, I'm fine-"

"No," she growled, "You're not. Come with me."

Leaving no room for debate, she took him by the hand and half dragged him back toward the bow of the ship, away from prying eyes and ears.

With the rough sea spray stinging her face, the winds whipping at her hair, she peered up at him.

"Tell me what hurts."

He paled. "Nothing hurts"

"Right, because that face you made just now wasn't pain. Do you honestly expect me to believe that?"

"Well, Kess," his near-glowing eyes burning through hers, "you have been kicking my ass for the past few days, and we almost drowned in the Dead Zone sea like, a few hours ago-,"

Kessara snarled. "You and I both know that's not it. Tell me the goddamned truth."

River shook his head. "No."

Kessara raised her brows. "No?"

"No."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because its not important."

Kessara gave him an incredulous look. How was it not important?

"Of course its important. You're in pain."

Something in his eyes softened at that, and Kessara was suddenly aware of just how close they were standing. Close enough their boots nearly touched. She resisted the urge to leap backward, but instead planted her feet apart, crossing her arms.

"Trust me, Kess, just, don't ask about it," he said softly.

_Great Goddess, stop looking at me like that._

"You don't get to make that decision."

"Yes, I do. Besides, its going to go away soon enough."

Kessara knit her brows.

"Explain."

He just shook his head, smiling warmly at her. The warmest expression she'd seen him make.

"It's nice to know you care, Kess. Even though you punched me in the face."

Kessara was half tempted to do it again. "You were being an ass."

His soft smile turned to a grin. "True." He grabbed her by the hand, gently pulling her back toward where Charlie and Allesia sparred. "Now, show me how you do that flip thingy. I want to return that ass kicking you gave me."

Kessara's gut was still knotted with worry, but she snorted. "You wish. This conversation isn't over. I will find out what's wrong with you."

She noted his clenched jaw. But he didn't say anything as they walked back to the others.


	34. Chapter 34

River and Kess joined the others for dinner; all sitting on old chairs that squeaked when they moved, around an equally rickety table that somehow appeared at the helm. It wasn't much of a dinner, really. Strips of dried pork and beef, frozen vegetables warmed in the small hearth down in the sickbay. But River couldn't complain, not when he hadn't eaten anything for nearly two days now. Their conversation was pleasant; cold, but pleasant, though it was hard to pay attention when he was focusing so hard on _not_ looking at Sloane, or Kess, who had no doubt deliberately chosen the seat across from him to watch when he flinched from the intense throbbing pain in his back.

River believed her when she said she'd figure out what was wrong with him. He had no doubt she would eventually. She was too smart, too resourceful not to, but he prayed to the Goddess that she wouldn't solve it until after his deadline. He prayed that he would make it to her queen, just long enough to convince her not to hang Kess, and then he could go in peace. He could maybe save a life, instead of ending it.

So he clamped down on his flinches, willing his face to stay neutral under her piercing glare if he accidentally leaned too far back in his chair, or twisted too much to reach for his cup of water. But he couldn't stop his cringe when Allesia mentioned Moonbeam.

Commander Blackrose's horse was nearly as famous as she, it seemed.

His heart cracked at the look on her face, the pain in her eyes, the way her shoulders seemed to curl further and further in with every word of praise Allesia said about her dead horse. Kess always reminded of a lion, the way she marched like she owned the world, the pride in the way she set her jaw, her chest puffed out, steel in her pretty pine green eyes. She seemed to take up space; despite being several inches shorter than him, she always felt bigger, always seemed to look down at him. But now, watching her curl into herself, the grief and shame so clearly on her face...she blamed herself, he realized. Blamed herself for Moonbeam's death.

"So Daemien," he cut in, resisting the urge to spit his name, "What's your power?"

Kess shot him a warning look, but he ignored it, glad to see her straighten slightly.

Daemien's expression didn't change. Typical.

"Hallucikinetic."

River raised a brow. "Illusions. Impressive. You a powerful one?"

He smirked when Daemien bristled.

"I would say so," he replied cooly.

"That must be useful in a fight," Kess said, turning her eyes on him. River bit back a growl. He knew he had no right, not when his deadline was coming up so quickly, but Goddess, he wished she would stop looking at Daemien like that.

He nodded. "It is. I can make copies of myself, and distract my opponent long enough to stab them in the back."

"Interesting. And you want to be a spy, yes?"

Was...was she offering him a job? A slight pain in his chin told him he was clenching his jaw.

Daemien nodded again.

"How long can you hold an illusion?"

He contemplated a moment. "If it's just one, several hours."

River blanched. Wow, he was powerful. Not that he would ever admit it.

"And your range?" Kess asked.

"A few kilometers, depending on the size of the illusion."

Kess narrowed her eyes, and River could practically see her mind working through them.

"So, in theory, you could be in two places at once. Perfect alibi."

Well, as much as he hated it, Kess had a point. Daemien would be an excellent spy, and excellent assassin. The amount of time he'd spent in the early days, establishing alibis for when he had a mission...maybe he would have been able to escape Avalon's punishments-

No. She would have whipped him anyway. He couldn't start thinking like that.

They later found out that Sloane was a telekinetic after she snapped her fingers and their plates disappeared, presumably to a sink somewhere.

But Kess disappeared immediately after dinner, and River had a theory as to where.

Charlie pointed him in the right direction, and he descended the stairs down to the boat stables.

The stables were ramshackle, but effective, four small stalls held closed by steel locks, housing four horses. Two bay geldings, one palomino mare, and one dapple grey mare. Pretty, but nothing compared to the ethereal beauty Moonbeam had, or the elegant grace of Reverie.

He found her sitting on a hay bale, chocolate waves unbound, and tumbling down her back. Her elbows resting on her knees, she gazed at the horses with such pain and longing it made his throat tighten.

"Kess?"

She quickly swiped at her cheeks, turning to face him with a glare. He knew it wasn't genuine.

"What?"

He couldn't resist taking another step toward her, though he knew it was stupid.

"I just came to see if you're okay. Allesia seems like she doesn't know when to shut it sometimes."

She rolled her eyes, but he couldn't miss the tearstains on her cheeks, the slight redness in her eyes. He wondered how many times the infamous and ruthless Commander Kessara Blackrose had cried in her life.

"I'm fine. I just..." she trailed off, looking away. "I just miss him."

"It's okay to miss him, you know," he said quietly, "You're allowed to care about him."

She dragged a hand through her hair, and shook her head.

She wouldn't, he realized. Kess would never take the time for herself, to grieve for her horse, not when she had the war to deal with, her life in his hands. She had to kill Avalon, dear Goddess. But he could tell, she desperately needed allow herself to care.

"You don't have to keep this wall up all the time."

Wrong thing to say.

That fast, her eyes hardened once again, and she took a menacing step closer, snarling in his face.

"There is no wall. I don't need you to be my therapist, I need you to be my soldier in this war. I can't afford friends."

River recoiled. Too far, he'd crossed the line.

She pushed past him and stormed back up the stairs, the clack-clack-clack of her boots echoing down the stairwell.

He understood, he really did. She'd lost thousands of her soldiers, lost her mother, and now lost her beloved horse. Everyone she did get attached to ended up dead. But it didn't stop her words hitting him harder than her punch did.

River cursed himself for adding to that list. He cursed himself for being so selfish that he'd wanted become her friend before he died, barely considering how his death would affect _her_.

He didn't expect to care about her. He didn't expect to even _like_ her. Hell, he was supposed to hand her over to the faerie queen and sign her death warrant. But here he was, desperately wishing he could go talk to her, to find away to stop those tears in her eyes.

****************

Kessara stopped walking at the bow. She needed to feel the icy wind, the stinging sea spray against her face. She needed to wake up.

She missed Moonbeam horribly, but she had other, bigger concerns on her hands. They were losing the war, and the dark queen was still alive. There was something wrong with River, something he refused to tell her about, she didn't know if Savannah was in danger after Warren's vision, and Avalon was trying to raise Diabolis so he could wage some war on Etherea. So much, she had so much to do, but it started with getting River to the castle.

She cringed at what she'd said to him in the stables. Kessara knew what she'd said hurt him, just by the look on his face; he'd looked like she'd smacked him upside the head. He was just trying to be nice, but she couldn't afford to get attached, not when she was going to have to ask him to go fight and die for Cygnis. Not when she knew the odds of coming back alive. She couldn't do to him what had been done to her over and over again. She couldn't be so selfish as to allow him to get attached to her, couldn't allow him to care for her, when she knew her very next mission would end in her death. Pushing him away, that was her only option.

Even though it hurt. Even though her chest ached at the thought of their friendship disappearing. She'd only known him for a little over two weeks, yet he knew things about her that no one else did. Understood her past more than even Savannah.

No. He was her co-worker. Her soldier. They weren't, they _couldn't_ be friends.

It was dark outside when she finally left the bow railing, heading for the sickbay, the only place for her and River to sleep. The waves were picking up, and even with her years of balance training couldn't keep her walking in a straight line as the ship rocked and dove.

When she finally stumbled down the steps into the sick room, River was mercifully fast asleep, sprawled out on his stomach like a cat on the cot next to hers. She watched him for a second, his back rising and falling with each breath he took, his arms tucked under his pillow. He looked peaceful, she thought. It just firmed her resolve. Co-commander, soldier in her army, that was all he could be to her.

She shucked off her boots, then her grey shirt, leaving her in a soft grey tank top. Her wind-blown hair was already tangled, but she couldn't be bothered to brush it, not when her chest felt like it would explode with everything she had to do pushing down on it. She laid out on top of her covers, staring up at the ceiling.

She'd had a day from hell, and all she wanted to do was pass out, but River's words kept spinning round and round her head; _you don't have to keep this wall up all the time._

But she did, though. That wall was the only thing keeping her sane. So it was not coming down anytime soon, no matter what River's opinion was.

She closed her eyes. Two weeks. She would get back to the castle in two weeks, and then she could keep her distance. The castle was big enough, the city was big enough that she could keep that wall up. It was just the close quarters, just the hunger and the fear that was making her act this weak. No, as soon as she got back to the castle, everything would be fine.

Just as she was dozing off, River started thrashing in his cot.

Kessara nearly leapt out of her skin.

"River?"

He sat bolt upright, eyes wide and unseeing.

"No, no no no-"

He started swiping at his arms, rubbing his forearms and face like he was trying to wipe something off. Breathing, he was hyperventilating, too fast too hard...

"No, no please I couldn't, I _couldn't-_ " his voice cracked.

Kessara's heart stopped, and she scrambled out of bed, fighting for balance as the ship lurched sideways, and dropped to her knees beside his. He was going to pass out if he kept breathing like that.

"River, what's wrong?"

He didn't seem to hear her, seemed to only have one foot in the here and now, icy eyes clouded with something unreadable. Tears started streaming down his face, his heaving breaths edged with sobs.

A nightmare. He must have had a nightmare. And from his reaction, he was probably still having it.

Kessara shot to her feet, and put her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her. Her hands instantly dampened with his tears, but she didn't care. She needed to wake him up, he needed to _wake up-_

"River, you're free now."

His eyes locked onto her hers, eyes so full of pain and fear, and he broke down with a shuddering sob. He was crying; really truly crying, his bony shoulders shaking with gasping sobs. He clawed at his arms again, panting and weeping through clenched teeth, his whole body shaking with the force of it. Kessara couldn't breath; couldn't think about anything but getting this to stop. She needed to break him out of this, like he'd stopped her from clawing at her throat days ago. But this...this was something far worse. This was about something that bitch Avalon did to him. So, Kessara did the only thing she could think of, something that he'd probably never had before in his life.

_Great Goddess this is a bad idea._

She managed to climb up next to him on the cot, put her arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace. He didn't fight her, didn't do anything except rest his forehead in the crook of her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist. She stroked his hair as his whole body shuddered with the weight of his tears, whispering in his ear that he was safe, that he was free.

Leaning against the wall, he was half lying on top of her, but Kessara barely gave it a second thought.

She flinched at the sharp shoulder blades that dug into her forearms, but she didn't dare let go. Not when he needed her. She squeezed him tighter, his tears soaking her shoulder.

Kessara didn't know how long they stayed like that. Didn't really care. The only thing she could focus on was his laboured breathing, slowly evening out, his horrible sobbing quieting to almost nothing. And soon enough, his breathing slowed to a constant, steady rhythm, his breath warming her shoulder. Asleep. Even then, she didn't let go. No, she was going to stay here all damn night if she had to.

He could wake up crying, she told herself. He could wake up again and she might not hear him.

So, she continued to lay there, continued to stroke his hair and whisper in his ear that he was safe and free.

Clawing at her neck was one thing. This, this was something else.

Avalon was going to die for what she did to him. Kessara was going to make her suffer for breaking him so badly that he had to go through something like _this._

It must have been Sloane. Seeing her after so long, dragging back all those traumatic memories must have caused his nightmares.

After a while, Kessara's own eyes grew heavy, the crash of waves against the hull drowning out his breathing, the exhaustion of the day hit her like a ton of bricks. And as she drifted off to sleep, only one thought remained with her.

How the hell was she supposed to push him away after this?


	35. Chapter 35

Kessara woke up smelling of salt and woodsmoke. The bed, however, was empty, the sheets rumpled and half falling off.

Fine, she told herself. Good. At least she wouldn't have to deal with the awkwardness of the both of them waking up in a tangle of limbs.

The sliver of space on the cot next to her was still warm, which told her River must have left recently.

Kessara slowly sat up, wincing at the stiffness in her shoulders. Sharing a cot barely big enough for one did nothing for her sore joints.

A quick glance at the orange light that streamed through the single tiny porthole told her it was early morning. The intense rocking of the boat from last night was non existent, and the water was almost unnervingly glassy. Strange, for the Dead Zone.

She needed to get dressed, needed to find out what happened to him last night. But she also had to send some flares.

She needed a timeline, how much time they had to make it home, and to prepare for their mission to kill Avalon. The last thing she needed was to be caught unprepared, especially since her mission required breaking in to Nox Palace. Going unprepared to that hellhole was practically begging for a slow and painful death. And Zephyr was fighting a legion of demons in the Kraken Cove with nothing but a patchwork army and a few merchant and passenger ships. She needed to send word to the Cobalt castle to send a battalion to his aid, as well as try to piece together how the Malum Woods fit into this whole dilemma. Why was Queen Saphira looking into it? And the faerie queen, what was going on between her and River?

And of course, the biggest question of all; what did Diabolis plan to do once free?

Kessara shook herself. _One thing at a time,_ she told herself.

First things first, get dressed. She glanced around the sickbay, trying to find something to change into...

Her cot. Her black t-shirt and pants were folded neatly on her freshly-made bed, along with her thigh and hip holsters. Her sword and gold knife lay next to them, and she nearly sighed with relief at the sight of the familiar weapon.

Kessara's heat started pounding. If someone saw her and River...

Dangerous, very dangerous. She would have to corner whoever did it and threaten them to keep their mouth shut later. But she silently crawled out of bed; _his_ bed, dear Goddess, and dressed, quickly buckling on her thigh and hip holsters before jamming her knife and sword through them. She brushed her chocolate waves, much longer now, into a tight braid down her back, and headed for the stairs.

She found Allesia and Sloane sitting together in what looked like some sort of captain's quarters or map room, knee to knee and deep in conversation. At her request, Sloane snapped her fingers, a long strip of parchment and a cheap fountain pen appeared on the table. When Kessara asked where she could work in privacy, Allesia half dragged Sloane out of the room, giving Kessara the solitude she needed.

As much as they had helped her, Kessara couldn't risk them knowing anything sensitive, not when they could just as easily be Avalon's minions. She still didn't even know how River and Sloane even got out. If Avalon got wind of how she planned to figure out when the next Thinning was, she may very well try it herself. Kessara had to hope she didn't know when it was, as any leverage she could get could turn the tide in this war.

She started with Zephyr. Tearing a strip off the sheet of parchment, she scrawled a quick note to the Khelsia Marshal. It was more to make sure he was still alive than anything, and she drew a sigil in the bottom left corner, the paper bursting into flame in her fingers before disappearing. Her next letter was much more meticulous; to Alaric, telling him to send a legion of soldiers to retake the Kraken Cove. That too, vanished in a ball of fire. The last note was to Savannah.

_Crown Princess,_

_I have found the Shadow, and will be home in two weeks. Look into the Silva Forest, and reply with your findings._

_Signed,_

_Commander Blackrose_

The Silva Forest, where Diabolis crashed through Orbis to Zanhara when he fell. Where the veil between realms was weakest. Where Avalon was trying so desperately to get to.

If Savannah could find out where she could find one of the fallen beings, Kessara could discover when the next Thinning is, and kill Avalon before she does. And if Savannah could start working on it now, it could save Kessara precious time if the date turns out to be earlier than expected.

She drew the sigil, and the message disappeared.

Kessara took a heavy breath, steeling her nerves before leaving the room. She would have to face River at some point, face whoever saw them together, at some point, so it may as well be now.

Squaring her shoulders, she followed the sound of Allesia's voice, no doubt chatting somebody's ear off, up to the helm. There, Allesia was chatting with Sloane at the back railing, or rather, Allesia talked while Sloane listened. Charlie was sitting with his back against the railing, nose deep in a green-covered book. And River, River was deep in conversation with Daemien at the wheel.

Kessara had to clench her jaw to keep it from dropping to the floor.

River noticed her first, and flashed her a grin that didn't meet his eyes, but it was Charlie who scrambled to his feet.

"Commander!" he made to bow, but Kessara waved him off.

"Just, Kessara is fine."

River sauntered over to her side, smirking at Charlie. "Wow, first name basis already?"

Kessara scowled. "Remind me to kick your ass later."

"Oh, I definitely will."

It was like he didn't remember anything from the previous night. Kessara gaped at him as he went back to his conversation with Daemien, seemingly perfectly at ease with himself. She threw an incredulous look at Charlie, who appeared as confused as she was at this sudden new friendship. He just shrugged.

"Oh Comma- I mean, Kessara! Are you going to teach us to fight today?" Allesia chirped from beside Sloane, her caramel hair blowing over her face.

Kessara smiled. "I'm glad to see you're so eager."

A few minutes later, Allesia dragged Charlie and Sloane by their arms down to the bow of boat, River and Kessara trailing behind.

She felt the air between them go taught as a wire as soon as River fell into step beside her. Did he even remember that night terror? He must have, since he woke up next to her. Should she say something, apologise for snapping at him, ask him about what he saw?

"Kess."

She turned to face him, eyebrows raised, thanking the Goddess that he spoke up first.

River opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but his icy eyes dropped down. To her wrist. He gingerly grabbed it, and turned it over.

Bruises, from his sharp shoulder blades. She'd forgotten about them.

She watched his throat bob as he examined them.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Kessara pulled her arm out of his grip. "You have nothing to apologise for. Besides," she offered him a half smile, "I've had worse."

He shook his head. "Look, Kess-"

A loud crash cut him off, followed by a yowl, and Kessara whipped her head toward the sound.

Allesia had managed to flip Charlie over her back, slamming him into the deck.

River gave an impressed whistle that had Allesia beaming, while poor Charlie sat up with a groan, rubbing his back.

"Nice, Allesia. Where did you learn that?" Kessara asked, striding toward her. She was glad for the excuse to end her and River's uncomfortable conversation, though she could feel his icy gaze boring holes into her back as she walked away.

She shrugged. "Just figured I'd try it."

Kessara smiled.

"Good. Lets get to work."

Kessara pushed them hard today, and their technique had improved tremendously. Sloane, unsurprisingly, was already a prolific fighter, though her fighting style was more subdued, less explosive. She and Kessara sparred together, testing each other's limits and expertise. Kessara won every time, of course, though Sloane didn't seem to mind. She seemed more focused on avoiding River, and judging by how pointedly he refused to make eye contact, River seemed inclined to do the same. Too many tough memories, Kessara supposed. Allesia still excelled, trying new combinations and moves, with poor Charlie as her punching bag. And between scraps with Sloane, Kessara and River exchanged blows. She didn't pull her punches, and it forced him to think through the fight, to balance defensive and offensive. Though flushed and out of breath, his fighting style mirrored hers; explosive, commanding, picking up her signature moves, learning to block them. He was a natural, and a few times he managed to get both her shoulders to touch the ground. While the others sparred, she tried to ask him what he was dreaming about last night, but he'd just shook his head. A firm refusal, no doubt dreading bringing whatever it was back up again. She understood the feeling.

A few hours later, the five of them, exhausted and covered in cold sweat and sea spray, trudged back up the stairs to the helm.

The first thing Kessara noticed was Daemien's white-knuckled grip on the wheel.

"What's wrong?" she demanded.

His dark eyes didn't leave the horizon.

"The Vulkens."

River sketched a sweaty brow. "And those are?"

Daemien swallowed.

"A seascape of underwater volcanoes. Any one of them could blast our ship to splinters."


	36. Chapter 36

Savannah hurried through the cobblestone streets of the Caelum City, heading east, hood pulled low over her eyes. She'd braided back her golden curls into a tight plait, hiding it beneath her cloak, her clothes nothing but ordinary. If anyone saw her, they wouldn't suspect her to be their Crown Princess.

Good. She couldn't be caught out here. Not by that thing that used to be her mother, and thus not by anyone who answered to her.

Which was everybody, pretty much. Not even Alaric knew where she was going, but she knew what lay in eastern Polaris. And she needed allies, desperately. Allies that would not sell her out to the queen. At least, she hoped they wouldn't.

Kessara would return in two weeks, with the _Shadow_ in tow. Savannah had gotten her flare that morning, but deigned not to answer, for fear that someone, or something, could intercept it. Paranoia had dug its claws deep in her, and she wasn't taking any chances.

She rounded a corner, arriving in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in Cygnis. The white marble houses could be considered castles in their own right, they were so massive, their blue shingled roofs set off by the blinding green of their immaculately kept gardens. Servants bustled around, carrying armfuls of shopping bags for women in ballgowns so fluffy, Savannah wondered how they fit through doorways. They cut lawns, and scrubbed the marble until it gleamed. Guards wearing black, not Cygnis blue, stood with stiff backs at every door, a testament the incredible wealth of those who resided here, if they could buy private security. The only people who could afford to live here were the top Generals, viziers, and fashion designers. And, of course, the crime lords.

One specific crime lord, actually.

Savannah's heart was pounding so hard and fast, she could barely hear herself think. Any one of those servants could kill her if she so much as looked at their master funny. But she pushed on, walking as casually as she could down the busy street. She knew what she came down here to do, but it didn't make it any less terrifying. These people, and creatures, were born and bred for killing and crime.

A kid in a graveyard, with white-blond hair and gray eyes, gave her the idea to come here when she went sniffing for answers in the Caelum City shantytown. It had broken her heart to see so many people sickly and starving, living in huts and tents and rotting houses. Angered her that her mother was making deals with the devil for power when these people had nothing. The graveyard kid, Warren, said Kessara had sent him, which had her reeling. How did Kessara know she was in trouble, and why send this kid who looked barely fit enough to lift a butter knife, let alone a dagger? But he'd told her that Kessara had pinned him to the wall with a dagger of glowing energy at his throat, which sounded enough like her sister that she believed him. He'd told her of a vision that he'd seen, with a man with raven black hair bleeding from his back, a woman with cat eyes and white snakes for hair smiling with shark's teeth, and Kessara, with a rope around her neck.

Savannah scrubbed at her own neck, imagining a rope there. Then clenched her hands into fists. Her mother had threatened to _hang_ Kessara if she failed in her mission to find the _Shadow_. The bone crushing relief she'd felt when she'd learned Kessara had found the infamous assassin only firmed her resolve.

She'd told Warren to keep an ear out while she and Alaric pondered his vision, and he'd been sending her flares every now and again about things he'd seen and heard. Mostly smells of sulfur, people with smiles that seemed too manic to be real, eyes flashing red, but it scared her nonetheless. The demons weren't only in the castle anymore. They were in the city, _her_ city, and her people were in danger.

She rounded a corner into a cul-de-sac, counting her paces, trying to keep her breathing steady. Alaric taught her to count her steps, so if she was ever blinded or blindfolded, she would know by memory her escape route.

She used that training to keep her scream from sounding when someone put a canvas sack over her head, and the world went black.

Savannah wasn't unconscious, no, she was being half pushed, half dragged forward by strong hands. Two pairs, she was pretty sure. Both holding each of her arms. She tripped a few times, and those hands roughly yanked her upright. She counted her steps, but once she got to two thousand one hundred a fifty-three, she nearly ate dirt as her foot slipped down. Stairs. They were taking her down a staircase.

Alaric told her that underground was the worst place to be. No windows, minimal escape routes, and no one can hear you scream. Which was precisely why they were taking her there. Savannah reminded herself that these people were expert criminals. Of course, they knew underground was the best place to take a captive.

By step ninety-seven, her boots hit flat ground. Her escorts slowed, taking her with them. Two rough, deep voices sounded in each of her ears.

"Milady."

Savannah frowned beneath the sack. A female? She wasn't expecting that. But she quickly wiped the expression off her face when she felt someone grab the sack over her head, and yanked it off. Along with a fist full of her hair. She clamped down on her yelp, but her attention snagged on the room. Specifically, how _big_ it was. And how plain it was. The walls were jagged rock, like someone had carved this room out and left it unfinished. The floorboards, however old they looked, didn't make a sound as her escorts moved away, forward, toward the only piece of furniture in the entirety of the room. A wooden chair, placed like a throne in the center of the back wall. No carvings, no decorations, just like a normal wooden chair one would find in a citizen's dining room. But the woman sitting atop it was anything but plain.

She was beautiful, in a terrifying, I'm-going-to-slit-your-throat kind of way. Waist length, raven black hair that seemed to gobble up the torch light, tumbled down her shoulders in layered sheets, and her eyes, dark brown and framed by thick, black lashes, seemed to stare right through her soul. The woman wore a black suit seemingly made of soft leather, with buttons and pockets and buckles all over. She bore three simple, corded knives, strapped to her hip, and twin swords strapped in a cross behind her back.

The top crime boss in Cygnis, the lord of the Whitetail Pride, Nightshade Hunters, Ironhide Pack and Blackwood Banes.

Lady. Lady of the most feared mafia in Cygnis. Not Lord.

She sat, sprawled out on her chair like a cat, her expression unreadable. Savannah didn't dare try to use her powers, not when she could easily be punished for doing so. But something in her gut drew her to this woman. Like she was someone she'd seen in passing in a dream. She shook off the feeling.

Beside her, two men wearing similar soft leather suits, stood stiffly, angled slightly toward her. Neither bore weapons, but from the way they stood, Savannah got the impression they didn't need blades to be deadly. The one on the left had hair as dark as the woman's, though the light seemed to make the strands shine, with blue eyes lighter than the northern daytime sky. The one on the right was twice as big, with chocolate brown hair that brushed his shoulders and gray eyes like thunderclouds. But neither gave her chills the way their Lady did. The woman exuded power, lethal grace leaking from every pore on her porcelain skin as she slowly sat forward, twirling on of those wicked blades in her hands.

"Tell me," she purred, her voice like iron blades wrapped in velvet, "why the Crown Princess of Cygnis was found wandering around my neck of the woods?"

Savannah steeled herself the best she could, squeezing her fingers behind her back to hide their trembling. She lifted her chin, the way she'd seen Kessara do a thousand times before when she spoke down to her generals.

"I need your help."

The woman tilted her head, a gesture she could only describe as _predatory._

"But you don't even know my name."

Savannah's heart stopped, and she scrambled for answer. Her gaze snagged on a pale blue one, and the dark-haired man seemed to be trying to clamp down on a wince. He shot her a pitying look.

She swallowed hard.

"What is your name, Lady?" she managed to stutter. Her tongue felt foreign in her mouth.

The woman's expression didn't change, she didn't do anything except lean back in her chair once more.

"Scarlette."

Savannah dropped into a deep bow, hoping to the Goddess that she wasn't breaking any kind of rule in Scarlette's house.

"Thank you for your audience, Lady Scarlette. I would like to request your aid."

Beside Scarlette, the dark-haired man gave her the only the slightest of nods. Savannah clamped down hard on a sigh of relief. She'd done the right thing.

Scarlette narrowed her dark eyes, her lashes casting shadows like the legs of spiders down her cheeks in the torchlight.

"What does the Crown Princess want a mere mafia leader's help for?" she asked. Savannah was shocked at the genuine curiosity flashing across the woman's face. The most human gesture she'd seen her make so far.

"Because I can't trust anyone else."

Scarlette's eyebrows nearly shot off her forehead at that, but only motioned for Savannah to explain.

Savannah had debated beforehand how much to tell before leaving the castle. She'd decided on everything. She wasn't stupid; the crime lords were all morally questionable, stealing from the poor, gambling on people's desperation, addicts need for another fix, all for gold and silver. But there were certain lines she'd never seen them cross. Even their mercenaries and assassins refused clients for who they wanted dead or how they wanted them killed. They never tortured, just quick clean kills, bodies cremated and tossed off the mountains.

She knew it was a gamble, betting on their limited morality and need for self-preservation in order to sway them to her cause and not spill her secrets to the highest bidder, but she didn't have much choice.

So, she told Scarlette everything. From the strange gut feeling she got, to her discover of her mother's corruption, to the presence of demons in the castle and thus presumably in the city.

The Lady just sat forward, elbows braced on her knees, and listened to her story. And Savannah stood in foot-shuffling silence as Scarlette turned over every word.

Finally, when her heartbeat was so loud it drowned out the entire room, Scarlette spoke.

"What do you ask of me, Crown Princess?"

Savannah resisted the urge to flinch at the title. But she once again lifted her chin as Kessara did.

"I need your wolves to patrol the streets, looking out for the smell of sulfur. I don't know what kind of magic is keeping them hidden, but they smell like sulfur according to my – Commander. War is upon us, and we must be ready for it. I need you to fight if the battle comes here. Kill any demons you manage to sniff out."

Scarlette was silent as she pondered her requests.

"Is that all you desire, Crown Princess?" she drawled.

"No." Savannah squared her shoulders, hoping it hid how badly she was trembling.

"I need you to help me kill my mother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you guys! Thanks for sticking with this story, I know its pretty long lol. I am posting it here for writing feedback, so PLEASE leave comments and tell what you think!


	37. Chapter 37

They'd made it through the Vulkens. Kessara had paced for the entire time Daemien had navigated the dangerous seascape, so much so that River had to half drag her away from the railing. But they'd made it, and now, six days later, she was so ready to get off this stupid ship. 

She wandered up to the bow of the boat, and gazed out at the horizon. 

But something there caused her to squint through the fog.

There, maybe a kilometer away, was...land.

"Is that, Wallowdale?" River breathed next to her.

Charlie came up on her other side and nodded.

Bone-crushing relief coursed through her. They survived the Dead Zone. They _survived._ Eight days. Eight days until they made it to the castle. Eight days until she could go home.

Daemien started shouting orders; raise the sails, ready the ropes, to prepare for the landing at the docks, and Kessara and River helped the others carry them out.

She tied the ropes dreamily, images of Savannah's smile, as well as Avalon's head on a stake, swirled around her mind. She was going _home_.

She glanced at River, who was helping Allesia hoist the sails to slow their arrival at the docks.

Kessara was going home with a completed mission, safe from the Gallows. As well as a powerful hallucikinetic, another former prisoner and witness of Cygnis' sworn enemy, and a healer destined for the Sana Collegium. There was no way she wouldn't get back in the queen's good graces now.

It took mere minutes for them to land at the docks. Sloane and Allesia disappeared, returning moments later leading two horses each from the boat. And as Daemien and Charlie tied their bags onto their horse's saddles, Kessara discovered a problem.

Four horses, but there were six of them.

As if reading her mind, Charlie said, "Some of us will have to ride double."

Allesia put an arm over Sloane's shoulders, who in return gave her a small smile. "We'll share."

And, to her surprise, River spoke up. "Since I doubt anyone wants to ride with Commander Grumpy here, I will."

She glared at him, but secretly, she was glad. If only not be alone when she rode for the first time after Moonbeam. It was only eight days ago, and the thought of riding another horse had her chest aching. She rubbed it with a hand, as if she could massage the pain away. River's icy eyes watched the movement, his mouth pressed into a hard line.

Kessara forced herself to lower her hand. To lift her chin, and approach the dapple-grey mare Allesia held out to her. She felt River's presence following close behind her, as she braced a hand on the saddle and swung her leg over.

Everything about it felt _wrong_. The grey fur instead of white fur, the width of the horse's back, the foreign feeling of the horse's mouth on the other end of the reins...

The horse shifted as River pulled himself up onto her back. His knees rested against hers, sitting so close she could feel his breath on her shoulder.

"You okay?" he whispered.

Kessara just nodded, not trusting her voice. Daemien and Charlie each had a horse to themselves, and Sloane steered while Allesia sat behind her.

Charlie called over his shoulder.

"Ready? We'll head into town and stock up on provisions before we go through Wild Country."

Everyone nodded, and Charlie launched into a walk, east, straight toward the heart of Wallowdale. Kessara squeezed the mare's sides, and she immediately jolted into a quick walk. Strange, so strange this new horse.

She missed Moonbeam.

It was only a few minutes before they stopped, right outside a restaurant, who provided them with some more dried meat, a few loaves of crusty bread, and some apples. Easily enough to make it through Wild Country to Cantasile. They ate some right there, taking the opportunity to sit down outside on the patio, and Kessara savoured the feeling of being _full_. Not 'sustained', or hungry. Full.

But it puzzled her to see River picking at his food next to her. She doubted he wasn't hungry, considering he was bonier that she was. She wondered if it had anything to do with whatever was wrong with him. She would find out what it was; it was just a matter of time. But he would starve before they made it to the castle if he didn't eat.

But it concerned her even more to see Charlie watching him with equal intensity from across the table. Did he suspect something was off as well? He was a healer, albeit untrained, but powerful nonetheless. He must have done some kind of inspection while she and River were unconscious; he wouldn't have known about her broken ribs if he hadn't. Did he find something on River that spiked his concern?

Was that why he wanted to speak to River privately that day?

Charlie noticed her gaze, and quickly looked away, suddenly finding his hunk of bread very interesting.

Interesting indeed. He knew something, and she bet on the Goddess herself River made him swear not to tell.

But she said nothing as she again mounted that dapple-grey mare. Nothing, as River swung himself in behind her, resting his knees against hers. No, she had to handle this carefully. She could lose two friends if she didn't.

It was a five-hour trek uphill to the Wild Country border. On Moonbeam, with the help of her power, she'd ridden it in seconds, but she couldn't exactly do that with four horses. At least, she wasn't going to try, not when she was already so frail and weak from weeks with little food and no training. Maybe she'll start to test her limits once she gained some weight and rested for a little while.

She and River rode in silence, despite Allesia's incessant chatting and Charlie and Daemien's hushed whispers. After about an hour of picking apart everything about this horse that Moonbeam was not, and pondering River's condition, Kessara began to wonder why she still hadn't heard a reply from Zephyr or Savannah. Alaric had responded almost immediately, the legion of soldiers already on its way to the Kraken Cove, saying they should be there by the time Kessara made it back to the castle.

She only hoped there was anything left to save once they arrived. If Avalon got her claws on Zephyr, the war could be lost already. And Savannah... she had no idea why Savannah wouldn't answer. From the last flare she sent, about the Malum Woods, it seemed she and Alaric had been working together. So then, why would Alaric answer, and not Savannah?

 _You'll be home soon,_ Kessara told herself. _You can ask her yourself._

Exhaustion hit her like a ton of bricks, and she yawned into her shoulder. The treeline was still a tiny blip in the distance; still four hours of travel on an open road to go.

She glanced sideways at Sloane and Allesia, her eyelids feeling like lead. Sloane was still riding, but Allesia had passed out, her cheek resting on Sloane's back. Sloane's normally harsh, unyielding face had softened, like she was holding back a smile.

Curious. Very curious, though her brain was too foggy to really think about it.

"I'll take the reins for a while," River breathed into her ear, "You should take a nap."

Great Goddess, a nap would be nice right about now. He slid his hands under her arms and took the reins from her grip. She flexed her cramping fingers, barely acknowledging how close he was, his salty, woodsmoke smell. She leaned back against him, resting her head on his bony shoulder, and fell asleep.

**********

River felt like absolute crap. His back was killing him, every movement of the horse sending fire lancing through his nerves, so much so he felt sick to his stomach. If this was how he was going to spend his last week and a bit, he would prefer to drive a knife into his own heart.

And then he would burn in Zanhara for being so selfish that he would allow Kess to die in the way she most feared so he could die faster. No, he could, he _would_ endure it. Even if every breath was agony. He would push on and try to make it to the castle for her sake.

She was sleeping, her head resting on his shoulder, the ends of her plait tickling his arm. He bit his lip to keep from smiling at her tiny snore. This was the most peaceful he'd ever seen her. When they had been sleeping in shifts out in the woods, he'd always watched as she tossed and turned, begging someone to stop, silent tears streaming down her face. He knew it must have been from her time at war, seeing all that bloodshed, but she never talked about it afterwards. Never even acknowledged that he knew. It hurt, to be so helpless against the enemy she was facing. That they were both facing, really.

His own nightmares still haunted him. He still got lightheaded in small rooms, and the darkness ate away at him, especially when his magic was drained. River sighed. How ironic; he commanded the darkness, yet still feared it. Almost as ironic as his brother's death; a hydrokinetic drowning in the cove.

This kind of enemy he couldn't cut its throat in the dead of night. Or fight with a sword and dagger like Kess was trying to do. This enemy was much, much harder to face.

Up ahead, Daemien and Charlie's abrupt halt yanked him out of his thoughts. They were stopped at the edge of a treeline, massive looming spruce trees with limbs like gnarled hands densely packed amongst tall ferns. A luminescent moss coated most of the bark and ground, lighting up the woods in a sickly, radioactive green light.

They'd made it to Wild Country.

River rolled his eyes. Lovely, yet another wretched forest.

He slowly leaned forward into Kess, nausea rippling through him at the shooting pain in his back.

"Kess, we're here," he breathed into her ear, wincing as her sharp shoulder blades dug into his chest. Not at the pain, but at the fact that she was so malnourished, so sickly and starving.

She was a light sleeper, and stirred awake immediately, those pretty pine green eyes scanning her surroundings. She cursed foully under her breath once her attention snagged on the woods.

"I hate this stupid forest," she muttered.

River chuckled. "Agreed."

She whipped her head around to peer into his face.

"Have you been? To the Caelum City?"

He racked his brain, but so much of his memory was blank holes and fuzz.

"I don't know," he admitted. "The forest feels familiar, but I-I don't know."

She pressed her lips together, but turned her head back around to face forward.

"That's okay. I'll show you around."

River was so stunned by the offer that he didn't know what to say. But his chest tightened once her words sank in.

"Yeah," he breathed, fighting the lump growing in his throat. "I'd like that."


	38. Chapter 38

They only made it about two hours into Cygnis Wild Country before the sun began to set. Everyone looked at Kessara like she was crazy when she slid off her dapple-grey mare and announced that they were to camp here for the night. Especially when she informed them that no one was to keep a look out either. Well, except Charlie, the only other Cygnis native in their little group. Once she'd explained the rules of travelling through Wild Country, however, they'd quickly dismounted their horses and rolled out their bedrolls.

Her own bedroll was lost at the bottom of the Dead Zone, along with everything else she had. So, all she could do was curl up on the hard ground next to River, resting her head on a rock, and close her eyes.

Despite it being early May, the forest felt like it was stuck in January, and Kessara's breath clouded in front of her. She shivered, curling her legs up to her chest. Her cloak did nothing to help, full of holes and tears from the thick brush on Calams Isle.

But she managed to pass out anyway, tossing and turning in a fitful sleep full of nightmares, the luminescent moss a constant green light behind her eyelids. So, when River gently woke her a dawn, she was almost glad to get back on that strange horse.

They rode on for another day, and despite the light of Cantasile being visible, they still slept when the orange sunset glinted through the trees.

Kessara was getting worried about River. His pale skin looked downright sickly, and his hairline was shiny with sweat. He shivered, even in the direct sunlight. At first, Kessara though it was because of the freezing Wild Country, but when they broke through the trees into Cantasile, she knew it was because of whatever was wrong with him. It was an injury or illness; she'd pieced that much together. Whenever she'd grilled him about it, he refused to answer truthfully, always blaming it on the malnutrition. Well, she knew that was a lie, considering Charlie's cringe every time he'd said it. And the fact that she herself was starving, and didn't feel like how he looked.

But what puzzled her the most was how Charlie didn't seem inclined to heal him. She wondered if he even _could_ heal whatever it was, or if River told him not to. And if he had, why?

They'd decided to skip Cantasile, instead travelling all through the night and the next day. River had fallen asleep on her shoulder many times, and when he was awake, he leaned heavily on her, like she was the only thing keeping him upright. That scared her, more than she would ever like to admit.

She'd spent her time pondering the Malum Woods, what Queen Saphira had wanted with the information she'd sent Kessara to gather. It just didn't add up. She knew River had spent some time in the Malum Woods, but he could barely stay awake these days. When she finally figured out what was wrong and fixed it, she would grill him about it.

After she slept in her own bed. And spent a good day just hanging out with Savannah.

Three days left. Givedra's skyline was on the horizon, and Kessara was itching to get home. Especially with her friend behind her, turning greyer by the hour. He needed a healer, perhaps from the Sana Collegium. If Charlie could do nothing for him...well, it just made her wonder about exactly what manner of injury this was. And why he refused to tell her what it was.

She caught Charlie's worried glances over their fires, especially when River disappeared, returning minutes later wiping his mouth and looking green. On a few separate occasions.

When they finally arrived in Givedra, and sat down at another restaurant to eat a hot meal, River again poked and prodded at his food, looking queasy just watching the rest of them eat. She frowned at him over the table, and he refused to meet her eyes.

By this time, she was fairly sure the others had picked up on it too. Sloane seemed to constantly watching him with wary eyes, although she always looked at him like that, so there wasn't much difference. Daemien's expression was near unreadable, but he seemed to be studying River more closely nowadays. Allesia kept asking him what was wrong, and he'd snapped at her to shut up, a little too quickly, Kessara thought. Though she felt sorry for the girl when she'd left him alone, her usual bubbly demeaner quiet and reserved.

But she nearly jumped out of her skin when Sloane tapped her on the shoulder on their last night camped out on the side of the dirt road.

"Kessara, can I talk to you for a minute?" She glanced to wear River was slouched on a log across from them, watching them with cloudy blue eyes. "Alone?"

Kessara frowned, but nodded, following the girl for a few minutes south of their little camp until they were out of earshot.

"What is it?" she asked. Sloane wrung her fingers, glancing behind her like she was looking for someone. Kessara didn't know who, there was not a soul around for as far as the eye could see. But it only made her more curious about what she had to say.

"I was there, when he...he escaped. The palace, I mean," Sloane whispered finally. Kessara's eyebrows nearly shot off her forehead, but she kept her mouth shut, waiting for Sloane to fill the silence. She did.

"He was in the arena. This place, where she," she choked on the name, "Avalon, would hurt him. She'd just finished whipping him; sixteen lashes, I remember, and his back..."

Sloane's eyes turned glassy. "His back was a mess of blood."

Kessara felt sick. And angry. No, she was _furious_. That bitch, that horrible, wretched bitch had done such disgusting things to him, to them. Oh, she was going to die, she was going to suffer and die...

"Why are you telling me this," she asked in a low voice.

Sloane swallowed hard. "Because I think that's what's wrong with him. When they untied him from the pole, he'd run while his hands and feet were untied. He'd sent a bolt of darkness straight for Avalon's heart. She'd deflected it, but it bought him the distraction he'd needed to run. In the chaos, I managed to escape as well, but I was sure, I was _so sure_ that he'd died. He couldn't have survived that kind of blood loss without a healer."

Kessara's blood turned to ice in her veins as the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. _Mess of blood,_ that's what Warren had said about the man in his vision. That man was River, she already knew that, but...oh great Goddess, how could she have been so _stupid_...

His lashings were infected. And it was probably the faerie queen who'd done it. He'd lied to her when he said the faerie queen took no real interest in him, but he was with her after he'd escaped. That's when his wounds must have gotten infected; it didn't take long. He had a deal with her, she'd figured that out weeks ago, but was it for his life? Did he gamble his life away for something else? What was it? Question after question swirled in her mind, but she couldn't ask him about it. She knew he would clam up, would never answer, no, she would have to get her answers more creatively. And hope to the Goddess he didn't die.

"Please, Commander," Sloane begged, "please, you can't tell him I told you."

Kessara put a hand on the other girl's shaking shoulder, and looked into her silver eyes. "You did the right thing, telling me. I will keep your secret."

But icy fear began to creep into her veins. If she was right about the infection, River's wounds would have been festering for weeks. How he managed to survive this long, she didn't know. But they needed to get to the castle, now.

Kessara pulled Sloane by the elbow northwards, practically jogging back to camp, blood roaring in her ears.

Her knees nearly buckled with relief when they finally got back and River was still sitting on that log. Daemien was tending to the fire, and Charlie was rolling out the bedrolls.

Alive, he was alive, thank the Goddess...

"Don't bother, Charlie. We leave now."

Charlie gaped at her. "But we haven't slept in days-"

She silenced him with a growl. "I don't care. The Caelum City is right over there," she jerked her chin eastward, toward a colossal mountain range; the Glacie Mountains. "We'll make it within a day. You can sleep then."

She didn't know how long River had left, and she would be damned if she was going to lose him too.

"Kess?" River's voice was hoarse behind her.

She thought she'd felt fear before. Hell, she fought demonsas a job. But nothing compared to the absolute _terror_ that spiked through her when River's eyes rolled back into his head, and collapsed face-first into the ground.

Allesia screamed, but Kessara was already running. She fell to her knees beside him, horrified to find him still conscious, writhing on the ground in agony, panting and groaning.

His back...

Charlie knelt beside her, face set in grim determination.

"His clothes need to come off," he commanded, reaching under River's throat to fumble with the clasp of his cloak. It was too slow-

She wrenched her gold knife from her holster and cut through his cloak, then his jerkin, tossing them aside and leaving him in that black shirt. She put the dagger at the back of his collar and sliced down, the sharp blade tearing the fabric like paper. But nothing could prepare her for what she saw.

Allesia screamed again, muffled in Sloane's shoulder, and Kessara's stomach heaved. She crawled away a few feet, and vomited her meagre dinner into the grass. Oh, great Goddess, his _back..._

Sixteen lashings, Sloan had said. She believed her. So much blood, but that wasn't all. The edges of the wounds were black, coated in greenish yellow discharge that mixed with the red. The relatively unmarred skin around the gaping lacerations was bright red and swollen. Oh yeah, it was definitely infected.

She retched again, but nothing came up.

 _Pull yourself together,_ she chided herself, _he needs you._

So, she managed to swallow her nausea, and crawl back over to Charlie and River. Charlie had his hands over River's back, a soft green glow emitting from his palms. But nothing was happening. Kessara's vision blackened with fear. It wasn't healing.

"Why isn't it healing?" she demanded.

"Magic. Some powerful magic is keeping it infected."

No. No, no, no, this was _not_ happening.

"The Sana Collegium is at the base of the mountain, only a few hours journey. Maybe shorter, if we run," Kessara breathed.

Charlie shook his head. "He wouldn't be able to hold on. And a fall off a horse is the last thing he needs."

Kessara's face was wet, though she didn't know why.

"We have no other choice. Moonbeam and I, we ran a five-hour trek in seconds with my powers. If I can get him to the Sana Collegium in a few minutes..."

Charlie up from River's back. "How many can you take?"

Kessara shook her head, avoiding looking at his poor back. "Two at most. I haven't practiced the skill, and I don't know how much slower it would be if I took all four."

But someone grabbed her hand with tentative fingers.

"Kess?" River's voice was near guttural.

Kessara scrambled in front of him, and dropped to her stomach so she could look into his face. Dear Goddess, he was so pale and gray...

"You're going to be okay," she promised, squeezing his fingers. Despite the pain, he smiled at her.

"No, I'm not."

She froze. "What?"

He pulled his hand out of her grip, and reached up to brush her cheek with a thumb. His fingers came away wet. She was crying.

"The faerie queen," he coughed, and groaned at the movement, "when I escaped, I lost too much blood. My wounds got infected, and she healed them for a price."

Kessara put a hand on his cheek. "What was the price?" she whispered.

He grimaced again. "You. She gave me two months to find you and bring you to her, but I couldn't do it. It's her magic that's killing me."

No, no that couldn't be true. He would die like this, to protect her from the faerie queen.

"I'm going to find a way to save you," she promised, voice breaking.

Tears rolled down his own face, and he took a shuddering breath. "Take my body to your queen, Kessara. So, she knows you succeeded, and doesn't kill you too." His expression hardened. "And you go to Nox Palace, and you kill that bitch, and save the world like I know you can."

Kessara screamed at Daemien. " _Get that horse ready!_ "

River's eyes began to drift closed. "Bury me somewhere pretty, will you?"

"There's no way in hell you're dying today," she growled through her tears. She barked at Charlie and Daemien. "Help me."

She hooked her arms under his and pulled, heaving him up to his knees. His head rolled, and she grunted at the dead weight. Charlie put two fingers to River's neck.

"He's unconscious, but his heart's still beating."

Good. Daemien grabbed River's left arm, Charlie on the right, and they managed to heave River onto the horse. Kessara jumped on in front, and Charlie behind. River's dead weight on her back had her core straining to stay upright, but she didn't care. She turned around to glare at Charlie.

"You let him fall, I will kill you."

He nodded quickly. "Yes Commander."

Kessara turned her attention to the others.

"I will see you in a day's time. Keep heading east toward the base of the biggest mountain. You will all have homes in the Palace."

Daemien, Allesia and Sloane all nodded grimly. It was all the confirmation she needed. She spurred the horse, that dapple-grey mare, into the fastest gallop she could muster.

The wind tore at her braid, but she just leaned forward and squeezed harder, throwing a hand up to the sky, the other braced on the mare's warm neck. She felt for that connection to Etherea she hadn't touched in days, and widened the thread. Thunder boomed, and she felt the energy trickle into her fingers, turning the veins in her arms glowing blue. She felt the heat in her irises, the same heat in her blood, flow over her shoulders and down through her other arm into the horse's body. It worked.

The horse's own veins glowed blue, and they thundered down the path, the world around her turning to a blur as they raced toward the massive marble tower at the base of the Divum Mountain. Over the roar of the wind and magic, she heard Charlie swear viciously behind them, but River didn't stir. Only a few seconds now...

Kessara tore the energy out of the mare's body, throwing back up to Etherea. She sat down hard and pulled with everything she had, and dust sprayed as the mare's legs locked up and skidded to a stop.

The marble tower loomed in front of them. The Sana Collegium.

Kessara half-fell off the horse and bolted for the expansive mahogany doors.

"Hello?" she screamed through the doors. "Help, I need help!"

A few seconds felt like centuries before the doors yawned open, revealing six men, all wearing cobalt blue uniforms, the signature of the scholars of the Sana Collegium. Between them, they had a stretcher. The one in front turned to her, eyes widening as he took in her face.

"What's wrong, Commander?"

She told him, stumbling over her words, barely able to breathe after the use of her magic, and the rest of the healers ran for where Charlie was trying to get River off the horse. One look at River's back had them reeling, however they were professionals, and quickly managed to put River face-down on the stretcher. He groaned awake, locking eyes with her as they hurried him back into the Sana Collegium.

"You're not dying today," she breathed. He only closed his eyes again with a groan.

"Come on," Charlie said, pulling her by the elbow to follow them. She did, stumbling over her own feet as a deep exhaustion settled into her. But she halted. Charlie turned to her with raised eyebrows.

"You go ahead." She swallowed hard. "I need to write a flare."

Charlie just reached into his pocket and handed her a fountain pen. The gesture made her chest hurt, but before she could thank him, he took off down the hall after River.

She sifted through her own pockets for a scrap piece of parchment, only finding a piece the size of her palm. She would have to write small, then.

_Commander Pyroak, Commander Dusktaker,_

_The Shadow is injured, and we are in the Sana Collegium. Come quickly, I don't know how much time he has left._

_-Kessara Blackrose_

Her chest ached at the words. He would live, he had to live. But if he didn't, would the queen believe her? That she succeeded?

Kessara never hated herself more, for thinking of her own life while River's was currently slipping away. And despite the exhaustion, the adrenaline of the day helped her sprint down the hallway toward him.


	39. Chapter 39

The healers in the Sana Collegium refused to allow her and Charlie into the room. Even after she pulled rank, threatened them, begged and cried, they flat-out refused. So, she was stuck standing at the glass window, watching every movement those healers made. They'd already peeled off his blood-soaked shirt, and were currently trying to cut away the infected parts. It wasn't working. The more they cut away, the more ruined flesh appeared. They'd knocked River out with some kind of potion, so hopefully he didn't have to deal with the pain.

"Kessara?" A painfully familiar voice asked from behind her. She turned around, hand flying to her throat, and her eyes met hazel ones.

Alaric Pyroak had come.

His eyes were wide as he took her in, her weight loss, wild hair and all. He said nothing, however, as he strode toward her and wrapped her in a tight embrace. She squeezed back, breathing in the smell of home. The shred of familiarity she'd missed so much.

After a few moments, she pulled away. Charlie flashed Alaric a grim smile, and Alaric nodded once to him in return, barely acknowledging his presence. That's when she noticed Theodore Dusktaker, standing awkwardly to the side, trying to hide the fact that he was gaping at her. She didn't care, and grabbed him by the shoulder

"River," she breathed, "They're trying to heal him, but there's magic keeping the wounds infected..." she trailed off, wrapping her arms around herself. "Please. If you can get rid of the magic, please."

Dusktaker only nodded, before striding toward the door, Kessara hot on his heels. The healers barked protests, but Kessara shot them a glare so vile they instantly shut up and allowed Dusktaker access to River's unconscious body. He put his hands over River's back, pointedly not looking at the mess of blood and blackened flesh, and scrunched his dark brows in concentration.

Sweat poured down his temple.

"What kind of magic is this?" he gritted out.

"Very old magic."

Dusktaker said nothing, fingers curling as he fought the faerie queen's grip on River. They watched him in silence, the tension so thick she cut slice it with her gold dagger.

"Is that the _Shadow_?" Alaric asked gently, keeping a respectful distance away. She could only nod, not trusting her voice, unable to tear her eyes away from River.

"He's not...evil?"

Kessara snarled at him, at what he was implying.

"Never."

And that was that.

But Kessara had to physically restrain herself from bursting into relieved tears when she noticed River's eyes open. But they weren't looking at her.

No, River was staring directly at Alaric, his previously dull eyes now back to near-glowing. And his jaw was clenched so tightly, she half thought he would break it.

She whipped her head toward Alaric, who was also staring at River with equal intensity, and perhaps a bit of awe.

"What is going on?" she growled.

Alaric just shook his head, eyes wide. "Impossible."

She turned back to River. Was it just her wishful thinking, or did he look less gray?

How...

"Bonded," Alaric breathed finally, "I'm _viribus_ with the _Shadow_. You've got to be kidding me."

Kessara recoiled at the proclamation. _Viribus_ were incredibly rare; she'd never seen a Bonded pair in her time. Two sorcerers, Bonded for eternity, with a connection deeper than blood. There were rumors that they could speak telepathically, heal each other's wounds just by being near them, as well as feel each other's wounds as phantom pain in their own bodies. It was a bond chosen by Fate himself, and no person in Orbis knew the reasons two sorcerers were Bonded.

River only nodded in shock

"How do you..."

Alaric's eyes were a little wild as he turned toward her. "Can't you see it? The glowing star above his head?"

She saw nothing but his raven black hair.

Alaric rubbed his shoulder. "I can feel it, just a slight pain in my own back. Oh Goddess, how can this be happening..."

Kessara grabbed Alaric by the elbow and dragged him toward River's bed. She didn't care if the healers in there kicked her out, or yelled at her. If Alaric's presence could heal River, she couldn't care less. The healers all raised their eyebrows at her.

But one healer, the one who had asked her what was wrong, was gaping at River's back.

"The infection is healing on its own." He snapped his head up to stare at Alaric. "Are you...are you his _viribus_?"

"Apparently so," River grumbled.

Bone-crushing relief tore through her at his unstrained words. He sounded almost normal. She shoved Alaric into the visitor's seat, an overstuffed armchair in the corner of the room.

"You do not leave this room until the infection is gone."

She was fairly sure Alaric was too stunned to answer, and he obeyed.

Just then, Dusktaker stumbled back away from River's back, chest heaving. He caught Kessara's eye, and nodded.

"It's done. The magic itself, it was unlike anything I'd ever seen before, but something seemed like it was helping me." He shook his head. "I have no idea how or what, but... it's gone."

Kessara mouthed a thank you, and dismissed her fellow Commander, with the other healers instructing him to get some sleep after such strenuous use of his power. He didn't seem inclined to disagree, and staggered out the door, past Charlie, who was coming into the room.

"Commander Pyroak should stay until the majority of the infection is cleared. After that, I'm sure we can use traditional methods to clear the rest of it, and the wounds should heal quickly after that," he said, looking over a Sana Collegium healer's shoulder to look at River's back.

Another healer, a short girl with bright red hair, strode through the door and narrowed her jade-green eyes at him. "Are you a healer?"

Charlie shrugged. "I have healing magic, but I am untrained. I do what I can."

She nodded at him, but didn't say another word as she ushered all but one of the other healers out of the room.

"We will stay and monitor your wounds until we are confident the majority of the infection is gone," the red-haired girl said with a surprisingly assertive tone, "Then we will give you some honey, aloe-vera and turmeric to clear the rest of it, as well as salt-water rinses twice a day for a week. Once the infection is completely gone, we will close your wounds." The girl pressed her lips together. "You will be left with major scarring, however there are treatments we can discuss to fade them."

River laughed without humor, and waved a lethargic hand toward his face. To the scar that sliced from his hairline to his jaw, straight through his left eye. "I'm no stranger to scars."

His eyelids began to drift closed again. Of course, he was probably exhausted. He'd just spent the past month slowly dying from an infection she knew nothing about. But before he fell asleep, Kessara strode over to the bed he was lying face-down on. She crouched down in front of him, so she could see his face. His sleepy eyes caught hers, and she couldn't help but place a hand on his cheek.

"I told you I would find a way to save you."

He chuckled again, genuinely this time.

"I should have known better than to doubt the Commander Kessara Blackrose."

His voice turned sleepy again.

"I'm going back to the castle," she said softly, "I will return later tonight."

He was already asleep when she got up from the floor.

As she made to stroll out of the room, the remaining healers and Charlie quietly conversing with one another, Alaric grabbed her wrist.

"What was that about?" he asked softly. There was nothing soft in his eyes, however, when he looked at River, fast asleep on his bed.

Kessara frowned. "He almost died."

"He's the most prolific serial killer in Orbis history."

Kessara's nostrils flared at the accusation. _I never wanted to kill anybody,_ that's what River had said."There is much you don't know, Pyroak."

"Then enlighten me. Why are you crying over the _Shadow_?" he asked through grit teeth.

"That. Is. Enough." She leaned down, bracing her hands on either arm of the chair and got in his face. "His name is River Lockwood, you'd better learn it, considering you two are Bonded,' she spat the word. "Secondly, I was crying because my _friend_ was dying, and I was afraid for him." She inched close enough to share breath. "If you do anything to sabotage his healing, I will gut you. Do you understand?"

He said nothing, but his eyes flared all the same.

Kessara stood up. "Good," was all she said, before striding for the door.

******

Kessara felt awful, mounting that poor mare after running her ragged just an hour before, but she was far too exhausted to make the hour-long trek up the Divum Mountain to the Caelum City on foot. But it was all worth it once the glint of the familiar white marble buildings came into view in the moonlight. The streets were dead, not a soul in sight, but Kessara felt her whole body relax, muscles loosening that she didn't even realize were tight. She was _home._

She nearly sobbed with relief when the massive metal gates of the Cobalt Castle came into view. She urged the mare faster, and, bless her, she did.

Kessara shouted her title as she neared the gates, and they swung open for her, guards on the night shift rushing toward her, hastily saluting before offering her help dismounting. She refused despite her exhaustion, and nearly fell over as her shaky legs hit the earth. One of the guards lead the exhausted horse away toward the stables, while two others guided her to the front doors. She dismissed all the others, chiding them for leaving their posts to check on her, and waved off her escorts after they'd opened the door for her. But not before they quietly informed her that the queen was waiting for her in the throne room.

Kessara winced. It was about one-o-clock in the morning. She hoped the ungodly wake up hour wouldn't put the queen in too bad of a mood.

As she strutted down the familiar hallways, her dread growing with every step toward the dreaded throne room, she scrubbed the dirt off her face with a sleeve, adjusted her Commander Pin, and finger-combed her chocolate waves as best she could.

She may feel like a mess, but the queen didn't need to know that.

The guards at the throne room doors saluted her, and she dismissed them with a jerk of her chin.

Despite the time, the queen looked ethereal as always, a massive cobalt blue dress fanning around her ankles. However, unlike their last meeting, Savannah wasn't there, but all seventeen of the royal viziers were sitting at the long tables on either side of the throne. And not a single on of them looked familiar. Kessara never really paid them any attention, but she prided herself on her observance. Maybe she was just tired, and stressed about River...

But what unnerved her even more was that not a single one looked tired. In fact, all of them were grinning at her. She fought a shudder.

She knelt at the foot of the queen's throne.

"My queen, I have returned with the _Shadow_ in tow. My mission was a success."

"Rise, Commander."

Kessara rose, and almost leapt backwards at the sight of the queen. The queen was blind, but she seemed to be looking right at her with those white eyes. What in the name of hell...

"It is my understanding that the _Shadow_ is in the Sana Collegium."

"Yes, Majesty."

"Why."

Why? Kessara scrambled for an answer. Would telling her the truth be wise? Every instinct was screaming at her to run, to hide, to fight. She'd made a career out of listening to her gut, but this was her queen...

"I'm waiting, Commander Blackrose."

"Some old wounds from his time with Empress Avalon Farbender opened up on the journey back. As you know, Majesty, the Kraken Cove had been taken over by the time we needed to cross the Channel, so our only option was to go north through Arisia and cross the Dead Zone. When we were saved after our boat was crushed in the Serpents Teeth, the only healer aboard the boat was untrained and didn't know how to heal infections, so all we could do was wait until we made it to the Sana Collegium, as his infection was getting worse by the day."

She told the truth, technically. She just left out the part about the magic and River choosing death over handing her over to the faerie queen.

The queen seemed to ponder her words for a moment, and Kessara made herself stand still, to keep her chin high and meet the eyes of every vizier currently analyzing her every breath.

"And tell me, Commander, why Commander Pyroak and Dusktaker are at the Sana Collegium right now?"

"I sent them a flare, Your Majesty, informing them of my arrival with the _Shadow_ in the City. I thought it good for the other Commanders to know."

The queen sat forward in her throne, tilting her head.

"Why would you not inform your queen?"

Kessara kept her chin high. "I did not wish to bother you at this hour with something so trivial, my queen. I had planned to tell you in the morning, once the Sana Collegium healers had fixed him.

The queen nodded.

"You are dismissed, Commander Blackrose. Congratulations, you've evaded the Gallows. Send the _Shadow_ my regards."


	40. Chapter 40

Kessara waited until she made it out of the throne room, until she'd rounded the corner into the Commander Wing of the castle before she loosed a sigh of relief.

She was fairly sure the queen believed her lie. She had no idea why her gut was begging her not to tell the queen the truth, but she was too tired to think about it now. All she could feel was relief. Relief at the fact that she would never have to fear those ropes swaying from the Hanging Tree again. That River survived, and that she was back home. She arrived at her door, and took a deep breath.

It was exactly how she remembered. Tidy, those wooden chairs at her tiny dining area tucked in the way she left them, her kitchen counters spotless and gleaming. It even smelled like her rose soap.

She rolled her eyes. Hopefully that smell didn't mean her soap bottle leaked. She strode for the bathing room, peeling off her disgusting clothes as she went, and slowly climbed into the bath. The warm water felt amazing, and she took that rose soap (that was still intact), and scrubbed away the dirt and grime caked on her skin, in her hair.

But when she climbed into bed that morning, despite the exhaustion, she still couldn't sleep. Her thoughts were with River, still healing in the Sana Collegium, and Savannah, who still hadn't answered her flare.

After hours of staring at the ceiling, trying and failing to pass out, Kessara finally gave up and climbed out of bed. She opened her closet, to be greeted by rows upon rows of clean clothes. Kessara took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh scent of newly washed clothes. Such a stark contrast to the musty, sweaty stench clinging to her shirt and pants laying in a heap on her bedroom floor.

She opted for black, like usual, but pinned her cobalt blue cape over her left shoulder with her tarnished silver Commander pin. She made a mental note to clean it later as she tugged on a polished pair of boots and headed downstairs toward the stables.

Before she knew it, Kessara had picked out a random horse and was on her way through the Caelum City. She didn't really think about where she was going, just taking in the glistening marble walls, the cobalt tiled roofs, the women in fancy dresses, fanning themselves against the oncoming spring heat as the morning sun set the city alight. The people bowed to her as she rode past, and she gave them curt nods in return. She'd missed this, her home. The respect and admiration of her people. This was _her_ city.

But once she reached the massive mahogany doors of the Sana Collegium, she stopped. She'd figured she'd end up here. It was like her horse, a mare she didn't know the name of, knew where her thoughts were.

She swung her leg behind her and slid off the mare's back, leading her over to the pole to tie her up. She fixed her crooked cape, tilted her chin up despite the exhaustion begging her to slump over, and knocked on the door. She was answered immediately, by the same short, redheaded woman. She took one look at Kessara, grabbed her by the arm, and yanked her inside.

In her panic for River, she hadn't had the thought to take in the ethereal beauty of the Sana Collegium. But now...

The entrance hallway was about the width of the entire Cobalt Castle ballroom, twice as long. Painted in silver that shimmered so brightly, Kessara thought it looked like the walls were encrusted in diamonds. Lining either wall were massive carved marble pillars, and strung between them hung lights on strings that set the place in a homey, warm glow. The floors were also tiled in carved marble, and the stained-glass windows high above their heads were framed by cobalt blue curtains.

"He's still asleep, but his _viribus_ Commander Pyroak just left," the woman said, half dragging her down the hall. The click of her boots on the marble tiles echoed around the space. It was very quiet in this place, wasn't it?

Kessara let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding at the news.

"So, the infection is gone?"

"Yes. As for you, Commander..."

Kessara dug her heels in, stopping the girl in her tracks. "What do you mean, 'as for me'?"

The girl just placed her hands on her narrow hips

"Extreme malnutrition, bruised ribs, acute exhaustion, split knuckles, need I go on?" she sketched an amused brow. "I've already sent word to the Crown Princess and the queen."

She tried not to flinch. The queen, right.

Kessara scowled at the healer. "Fine. But at least let me see him before you start prodding at me."

The girl just beckoned her to follow.

Goddess, Kessara thought _she_ walked fast. She had to jog to keep up with the girl. How could someone so short take such long strides?

"What is your name, healer?"

The girl shot her a sideways look. "Why do you care?"

Kessara frowned. "You helped save my friend's life. You're obviously talented, and you seem to be in charge around here. Why wouldn't I want to know?"

The girl was silent for a moment.

"Priscilla. I'm twenty-four, and I'm just one of the supervisors here."

Kessara nodded. "Good. We need more women in charge."

Priscilla said nothing as she ushered Kessara into River's room.

For a moment, fear squeezed her chest as she beheld River, lying unconscious on his bed. But it dissipated into relief as she watched his back rise and fall. Again. Again.

Breathing, he was alive and breathing-

She tentatively strode over to the visiter's chair next to his bed, and sat down. It was still warm from Alaric. Sat down, and watched him breathe. Over and over again, for the Goddess knew how long. Priscilla, wisely, stayed silent.

His arms were curled around his head, his cheek resting on his hands. They had changed him into a soft gray t-shirt, and cut out the back so his wounds were visible, albiet loosly dressed in clean white strips of gauze. So many strips, his whole back nearly covered with them.

There was nothing in her head, no thoughts of anything except the sound of his breathing. She rested her elbows on the bed next to his shoulder, just for a second, just to rest for a little bit...

"Commander Blackrose," Priscilla's voice whispered in her ear.

Kessara opened her eyes, and tried to blink away the grogginess. She was still sitting in the chair, but her head and arms rested on the mattress beside River's shoulder. She slowly sat up, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

Did she...

"You fell asleep," Priscilla confirmed.

Kessara blanched. "How long?"

She smirked. "Six hours."

Kessara jerked back, staring at the indent on the mattress where her head had been. _Six hours?_

 _It's fine,_ she told herself, _I haven't slept in days._

Even though his salty, smokey scent still lingered in her nose. Even though she hadn't been able to pass out at all until she was next to him.

She shook herself, fixing her crooked cape and smoothing her wrinkled shirt.

She waved a hand to Priscilla, who raised her eyebrows. Kessara's nostrils flared at the probing look, but she managed to keep a lid on her temper.

"Do whatever treatments you need to do," she snapped.

The healer just nodded. "Come with me."

And so she did, out of the room and into the one next door. The rooms looked identical; barely the size of her bedroom with a small bed with plain white sheets, a porthole of a window and an overstuffed armchair in the corner. A bunch of medical instruments, along with vials and jars full of liquids of all different colours, sat on a small round table on the other side of the bed.

"Sit," Priscilla commanded. Kessara didn't have the energy to scowl at her, and sat down on the bed.

"Cape and jacket off."

She folded her cape and placed it next to her, and hung her jacket on the bed post.

Priscilla pulled out a notebook from her white coat and started furiously writing. She asked Kessara when the last time she ate was, what she ate, how she broke her ribs. She'd paled after Kessara told her _that_ story, but forged ahead anyway. She asked when the last time she used her power was, how much she'd exerted it, how she usually rested after strenuous use.

Priscilla told her that she needed to drink water in small amounts every few hours for the next week, paired with small intake of food, gradually increasing over the next two weeks. Exercise could start again after a week, but she had to stay in the Sana Collegium for the next two nights.

"What?" Kessara asked. "But I can't-"

"You don't get a choice, Commander. We need to keep an eye on those ribs, and make sure you don't end up dead from refeeding syndrome."

Kessara had absolutely no idea what 'refeeding syndrome' was, but she certainly didn't want to die. Not when she had an evil empress to kill first.

She snarled. "Fine. Two days."

Priscilla smiled sweetly. "Lift up your shirt. I want to check out those ribs."

"Charlie already healed them," Kessara said as she did so. She winced as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror across from the bed. Her sunken stomach, her jagged ribs and hip bones, and wicked purple-blue bruise on her right side.

"He's untrained," Priscilla replied, sitting on a stool next to her to examine her ribs. "Talented, but untrained. I need to check his work."

She poked the bruise, but Kessara felt nothing. After a while, Priscilla stood up. "Impressive. He may have a place here at the Sana Collegium."

Kessara resisted a smile. She had no doubt Charlie was talented enough to be successful here, but hearing Priscilla say it...well, it was good, that's all.

Priscilla grabbed a roll of white bandages off the table and began meticulously wrapping it around Kessara's ribs. She wrapped them tight, but no so much that she couldn't take a deep breath. Once she was done, she set to work recleaning her split knuckles with a purple liquid that burned like the sun when she poured it on.

All of a sudden, Priscilla furrowed her brow, like she was listening to a voice only she could hear.

"What?" Kessara demanded.

"The Crown Princess is here," Priscilla said.

Kessara's heart stopped. Savannah...

"I want to see her."

She nodded. "She's being escorted to your room as we speak."

Priscilla turned toward the door to leave, but Kessara grabbed her wrist.

"Thank you," she said. Priscilla just looked at her warily, so Kessara shot her a half smile. "You'd make a good Chair."

Priscilla said nothing, but gave her a slight smile back.

"Someone will be back in a few hours to give you some food and water. I'll be around in the morning to check up on you."

Just as she left, a golden head popped around the corner, and Kessara's chest squeezed so tightly she couldn't breath.

She looked so different. Same dark eyes, same blindingly bright hair, and yet...

"Savannah?" Kessara whispered.

Her best friend burst into tears.

Kessara's own vision blurred as Savannah hurtled for her, enveloping her in a tackle hug that half-pinned her to the bed.

She coughed out a mouthful of golden hair. Of much shorter, golden hair.

"What happened to you?" she asked. "Your hair-"

Savannah pulled away, puffy-eyed, and grabbed Kessara by the chin, turning her head from side to side.

"What are you-"

"What in the name of the Goddess happened to you out there?" she demanded. "You look like me! Well, before..." she gestured to her own body. Kessara's eyebrows raised.

She'd been working out, a lot, by the looks of the toned muscles in her arms, the width of her shoulders.

"Keeping up with the training, I see."

Savannah shook her head furiously, swiping at her now dry eyes. "Oh, no, you are _not_ changing the subject. Did you eat at all? What happened?"

Kessara pulled out of her grip and studied her friend.

"Why did you cut your hair?"

"I am not going to ask again," Savannah growled, "Tell me what in hell happened."

Kessara recoiled, brows raised. Savannah never growled. Or barked orders. Kessara wondered what happened here while she was gone. But she knew wasn't going to be able to wriggle out of telling her the story.

"How much time do you have?" she asked, rubbing her jaw.

Savannah shot her a wicked grin. "Every goddamned detail."

And so, Kessara told her every goddamned detail. Her friend's expression darkened as she told her of the late Marshal Schumacher's involvement in her mother's murder, and her frown only deepened when she mentioned Warren and his vision. Kessara sketched a brow at that, but Savannah only gestured for her to continue. She told her of Wild Country and the demons she'd killed. Savannah winced hard when she learned Kessara had called the Empress of Evil, the Dark Queen herself, a bitch. She giggled at the mention of Marshal Zephyr Rockshade, and gasped when Kessara mentioned fighting River in that back alley in Khelsia.

"No," Kessara amended, "He's not evil. Quite the opposite, actually– what?"

Savannah was grinning like a wolf.

"Oh, nothing, it's just that you call the infamous _Shadow_ by his first name and-"

Kessara growled. "Do not finish that sentence. Whatever you're thinking, it's wrong."

Savannah only smirked in response.

She rolled her eyes, but continued with her story. Savannah laughed when she told her about the vampire attack in the Fascinare forest, and cried with her about Moonbeam. And when her eyes had dried, she told her about her new recruits; Daemien, Charlie, Sloane and Allesia.

"Oh yeah, they arrived at the castle about three hours ago. I have them set up with their own rooms in the Guard Wing," Savannah informed her.

Kessara breathed a sigh of relief. They arrived safely, the queen didn't send them away. But Savannah looked less than thrilled about it.

She frowned. "Out with it."

Savannah caught her gaze, and quickly looked away. "I'll tell you later."

Kessara studied her for a moment, hoping her friend would fill the silence. But it chilled her blood when Savannah gave her an expression that could only be described as terror, paired with the slightest of head shakes; so subtle she would have hardly noticed it.

Something was very, very wrong, and Savannah knew what it was. And it scared her enough that she wouldn't even tell Kessara. Her hands tightened into fists.

Despite her now pounding heart, Kessara launched into the rest of her story. She told her about River's back, but chose to leave out the faerie queen. If Savannah suspected that they were being watched, that kind of information could very well turn the tide for the enemy in this war. Best to keep it under wraps for the time being.

"So, he really didn't tell you?" Savannah laughed.

"Yeah," Kessara grumbled, "And you can be damn sure that when he gets better, I'm going to rip his head off for it."

"So considerate."

"Shut up."

Both girls dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Savannah pulled Kessara into another tight embrace.

"I'm really glad you're home, Kessara."

Kessara's eyes burned and she squeezed her friend back.

"So am I."


	41. Chapter 41

Kessara couldn't sleep. Again. The stupid bed was lumpy, but she knew the cheap mattress wasn't the cause of her insomnia. No, it was the suffocating silence in the tiny room in the Sana Collegium. And the way the tonics and elixirs fractured the moonlight into eerie shadows on the wall. She clutched her blanket tighter. Were those horns? Red eyes?

Her throat tightened. She knew she needed to sleep, and could feel the effect of the exhaustion on her body, but those shadows on the wall, the emptiness of the room...

She wasn't worried about River. They'd woken him up that afternoon and healed his back enough so that he could sit back normally. He'd shot her one of his infamous grins, the ones that made her blood boil, and she knew he would be fine.

It was just this silent room. So quiet and empty and full of those demonic silhouettes on the walls.

She rolled over and squeezed her eyes tight.

************

River heard the door creak quietly before he saw her.

He'd been listening to her toss and turn next door for the past few hours, and it pulled at his heartstrings. He couldn't even pin her arms down if she was clawing up her neck again. He hoped to the Goddess she wasn't.

But there she stood, fidgeting with her blanket in his doorway.

River's focus went right to her throat, examining for any blood or new scratches. He unclenched his jaw when he confirmed her skin was smooth and unmarred. The simple gray shirt she wore gaped at the collar and fell down past the thigh of the matching grey sweatshorts, just like the ones he wore.

River bit down a groan as he sat up. Still stiff, but no burning. It was still a marvel, the lack of pain. And the sensation of lying on his back. He never got to lie backwards in his cell, not when _she_ would whip him so often.

Not to mention being bonded with that asshole Kess had hugged when he first got here. They'd spent their time together, while River was awake, sniping at each other. But he'd deal with that later. Right now, someone else needed his attention.

"Can't sleep, Kess?"

She didn't growl at him, like he expected. She didn't even move from the doorway.

"Its quiet in there," she said softly.

River swallowed hard. Her pretty pine-green eyes tracked the movement.

He understood the feeling. The only reason he'd slept for so long was because his body demanded the rest his infection had robbed him of. At least, that's what the healers had told him. But now that he was recovering?

Those stupid jars of coloured liquid kept casting _her_ face across the walls. Her black eyes. Her manic smile...

"Can I sleep in your chair tonight?" Kess asked

River's chest tightened. That's why she came in. She didn't want to be alone.

He patted the space next to him on the twin bed. She eyed the space warily, but drifted over and sat down anyway. A good, healthy distance away. She didn't look at him. He didn't expect her to.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

She pursed her lips, still fingering the blanket in her hands.

"I'm fine. It's just...dark." She took a deep breath. "I keep seeing demons on the walls. The silence doesn't help."

River swallowed again. "I keep seeing her face on the walls."

She whipped her gaze toward him at that, those pretty eyes boring holes in his. He shrugged, but winced at the movement. Still not completely recovered, right.

Kess turned and smiled sadly at her lap. "Looks like neither of us are going to get much sleep nowadays."

River was silent for a moment.

"You don't have to sleep on the chair."

He blinked. Did he actually just suggest...oh, dear Goddess, what the hell was coming out of his mouth?

Kess raised her eyebrows. He fought the urge to crawl under the bed. He doubted he could do it without tearing open his wounds again. Was it just him, or did it suddenly get really warm-

The last thing he was expecting her to say was, "Okay."

She tossed her blanket over the arm of the visitor chair, and curled up on the bed next to him. Granted, she was facing the far wall, but there really wasn't a lot of room on this twin bed...

He slowly eased himself back down next to her. She was so close her bony back pressed against his arm, her warmth washing over him. He winced at her sharp spine. At least they were in the city again, she would get better soon.

 _They_ would get better soon, he corrected himself. He was alive, and would stay that way, thanks to the woman lying beside him.

He ignored her smell. Roses, like she'd washed with rose-scented soap.

They lay there in silence, the rise and fall of her back as she breathed pressing against his arm. He didn't know how long they stayed like that, just absorbing each other's warmth, before Kess spoke up.

"What were you dreaming about, on the ship?" she murmured, voice muffled by the pillow.

River clamped down on the flashbacks gathering in the corner of his mind. He hadn't had a night terror like that for a few weeks, and that one had been especially bad. It was seeing Sloane. He'd only ever seen her through the hold in his cell wall, and was barely able to make out her features in the darkness, or his vision was too blurred from the pain _she_ inflicted in the arena, but seeing her on that ship? He couldn't miss her. And it dragged up memories he'd been trying for the past month to bury as deep as possible.

"You already know that story."

Because he'd told her that day. And when he'd woken up, throat raw, face wet, chest burning with sobs, Kess had pulled him into her arms. She'd _hugged_ him. He was still reeling from it, not because he'd never actually been hugged before, but because Kess had been the one to do it. And he hated the fact that he hadn't stopped replaying it in his head since.

The mattress shifted as she rolled over to peer into his face. He resisted the urge to flinch away from her pretty pine-eyed stare.

"It was the child, wasn't it? The one she had you kill while you were...unconscious."

He tried to keep his face neutral, but she had this supernatural ability to read him like an open book. She pressed her lips together, and shifted her gaze to the ceiling.

"She'll die for that. For everything she did to you."

He smiled sadly at her. They'd been over this before; if Kess tried to kill Avalon with ethereal energy, odd were the rebound of the magic would kill her too. And she knew it.

But before he could reply, her soft snore broke the silence. It was the fastest he'd ever seen her fall asleep. He watched her sleep for a moment, her sleeping face in such stark contrast to the harsh, unyielding expression she wore while awake. And when his own eyelids grew heavy, he made a point to put his back to her, to try to ignore her rose scent. And within moments, he was asleep too.

***********

Kessara's boots clicked on the marble floors as she strode for the throne room. Beside her, River stalked silent as a cat. They were dressed up today; her in her ceremonial Commander uniform, her cobalt blue cape pinned over her left shoulder with her now polished Commander pin; him in a dark black suit with a matching cobalt waistcoat. How he managed to walk so silently in those boots, Kessara had no idea.

She could practically feel the tension radiating from his shoulders, and had already reminded him twice now to relax his jaw.

She understood his stress, though. Today, he was to be sworn in as a Commander. It wasn't going to be as grand a ceremony as the others, the queen supposedly wanting the public to focus on the war, not the former enemy joining their ranks.

But when Savannah had informed her of this yesterday, Kessara had frowned. Why would the queen not want to direct the public's attention onto something positive, like a new Commander? The news only fueled her roaring instincts about the queen.

Those instincts hadn't gone away since the day she returned. Even after two mission reports and her introduction of River, Charlie, Daemien, Sloane and Allesia, her feet still itched to run whenever she was in the queen's presence. But she couldn't think about that now.

She rounded the corner, and forced herself to lift her chin, to square her shoulders. The guards at the massive mahogany doors bowed deeply to her. She only nodded in return, though River seemed to be struggling not to gape at them.

Before coming here, she'd instructed River on all the rules and expectations of the ceremony. First, he would kneel before the queen, who would tell him when he could rise. He would recite the sacred oath, spill his blood on the Cobalt Stone; a cluster of cobalt carved from the Divum Mountain eons ago and the symbol of the power of Cygnis rulers, and then he would receive his silver Commander pin.

She felt bad for him, that he had to do this now. He had only just gotten out of the Sana Collegium two days ago, and she'd barely been able to sleep since they shared that lumpy mattress. The good news was, his spine didn't jut out of his skin anymore, and his shoulder blades and hip bones were less jagged.

The massive mahogany doors yawned open to reveal the throne room. And the queen in all her glory, wearing the biggest blue dress she'd ever seen. The throne she sat on was nearly swallowed by it. But those white, unseeing eyes locked onto Kessara's. She swallowed hard, but lifted her chin higher. Naturally, all seventeen of the royal viziers sat with those same plastered smiles on either side of the queen. To the queen's right stood the other five Commanders, chests out in a tight salute. And to the queen's left was Savannah, wearing an uncharacteristically simple high-low gown in the same cobalt as Kessara's cape, looking paler than the moon, despite her new, tanner skin. She had her hands clasped tightly behind her back. She did that when her hands shook, Kessara noted.

Savannah had told her she would tell her about, whatever was going on, later, but Kessara had been back home in the castle for a week now and she hadn't made a move. The not-knowing was really starting to grate on Kessara's nerves.

She felt River tense even more beside her, but she kept her eyes forward, striding for the foot of the throne. She dropped to one knee, and bowed her head.

"My queen."

Kessara could almost feel her predatory gaze burning holes in the top of her head.

"Rise, Commander."

She did, and marched in silence to where the other Commanders stood at attention. That was all she was; an escort. She took up the end spot, right beside Alaric, who didn't so much as look at her, keeping his eyes trained on his viribus, who still knelt before the queen.

Alaric and River had an...interesting relationship, to say the least. River had only been at the castle for two days, and already managed to make Alaric throw a dagger at his head. But their moods changed when the other was in the room, like they became uncontrollably happier, smiled more, laughed more. Until they actually set eyes on each other. A few times, Kessara had to yell at them to get their heads out of their asses. They stopped the sniping, but would shoot taunting looks at one another. She was surprised at their total rejection of the viribus bond, but even more so surprised at the fact they were Bonded entirely. They had opposite personalities; Alaric being calm and collected, shy and a follower of tradition. Much more of a gentleman. River was all smirks and grins and mocking arrogance. And for the past two days, he found poking and prodding Alaric until he snapped to be his new favourite game. Their magic didn't connect, not like fire calls to wind; a lord of darkness and a controller of minds?

"Welcome, River Lockwood to your initiation!" the queen's voice boomed throughout the room. River didn't raise his head, but said clearly, "Thank you, Your Majesty."

The queen drummed her fingers on the arm of the throne. "You are aware of the proceedings, yes?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." He risked a glance in Kessara's direction. She gave him the slightest of nods, unnoticeable to anyone who wasn't looking for it. He shifted his eyes back to the ground.

The queen stood from her throne, and the room suddenly went icy cold as a long staff of ice grew in her palm. Kessara's breath clouded in front of her, and she clamped down on a shiver.

Savannah passed her mother the scroll, a piece of parchment older than the castle itself, created by the very first queen, Queen Reina.

The queen unfurled it with spindly fingers.

"Do you, River Lockwood, swear to do what's best for the Cygnis people, for better or for worse?"

"I do."

The queen smiled that spider's smile.

"Do you, River Lockwood, swear to serve your ruler with your heart, mind and soul?"

River's fingers tightened at his sides. "I do."

"And do you, River Lockwood, swear to give your life for the Cygnis people, if the need arises?"

River lifted his eyes from the floor. Lifted them to meet the gaze of every one of those grinning viziers. Lifted them to the queen herself. Kessara held her breath. She certainly did not tell him to do that-

"I do."

The queen smiled again, and the scroll snapped shut, the sound so loud in the silence of the room, Kessara flinched.

"Rise."

River rose, chin tilted up, the epitome of confidence. But Kessara couldn't miss the way his throat bobbed, or how tightly he was still clenching his jaw. But before she could really think about why, the queen jerked her chin at Savannah, who strode forward, holding a small box in her now-calloused fingers. She stopped just before him, his height nearly dwarfing her. Kessara felt Alaric tense at her side. But Savannah seemed unbothered being so close to the most notorious assassin and serial killer in Orbis history, and opened the box. Inside was a brand new, shiny silver Commander pin, placed neatly on top of a folded cobalt blue cape, just like the one Kessara, Alaric, and the other Commanders wore. She tossed the cape over his left shoulder, and pinned it over his heart with the silver pin.

The queen sat back down into her throne, her staff of ice melting into vapor as the room temperature returned to normal.

"Welcome to Cygnis, Commander Lockwood."

But despite the successful initiation into the Commander's ranks, Kessara's blood ran colder than the ice of her queen's staff.

The cobalt stones. The queen didn't cue River to spill his blood on the cobalt stones.

Her queen would never have forgotten. That was not her queen.


	42. Chapter 42

Kessara bit her lip to keep from yelping as someone's fingers closed around her arm, yanking her sideways into the room across the hall from hers.

The door slammed shut behind her.

River, still in his black suit, his new cape and Commander pin over his left shoulder, didn't let go of her arm, instead half dragging her through his quarters, past his dining table, and into his bedroom.

Kessara's heart was still racing from the ceremony just moments before. Her gut had been screaming at her to run, to hide, for the past week, and today was the final straw. Whoever was sitting on that throne was definitely _not_ her queen.

River released her arm to shut his bedroom door. Shut the door, turned around and hissed, "What the hell was that."

Kessara shook her head. "I don't know."

River stalked toward her, snarling into her face. "She could _see,_ Kessara. I'm sure of it, so you have to do better than 'I don't know'. _What happened_."

Kessara knew his temper wasn't directed at her, but her nostrils flared, and she shoved him backward. He didn't even stumble, just stared at her expectantly.

"She forgot the cobalt stones," Kessara growled. "You were supposed to spill your blood on the cobalt stones at the queen's command, but they weren't even in the throne room. My queen would never have forgotten."

He narrowed his eyes. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying-" Kessara cut herself off as she heard soft footsteps outside River's front door.

River's laser-focus on the door told her he heard the same thing. Kessara felt for her connection to Etherea, and shaped them into a glowing blue longsword. River's eyes had gone completely black, and he gathered the void-like darkness into a freezing cold dagger in each hand.

They listened in silence as River's front door creaked open and shut softly. The soft thud of flat shoes on the carpet grew louder as whoever was in his chambers approached the door.

"Kessara? River?"

Savannah's voice. Kessara's heart thudded, but she glared at River to keep quiet. If a monster was wearing her queen's face, it could easily wear Savannah's too.

The doorknob to River's bedroom turned. Kessara braced herself, longsword glowing brighter.

The door opened to reveal Savannah, still in that high-low gown and flats, her much shorter hair tied up in a hasty bun. But Kessara couldn't take any chances.

She thrust out her sword and rested it against her best-friend's jugular.

"What was the last thing I said to you before I left?" she demanded. Savannah only trembled. " _Answer the question."_

River, wisely, remained silent behind her.

" _You have been the greatest friend I have ever had, my Princess. You are beloved by the people because you care so deeply. You are beautiful, and humble, and powerful. Do not lose these qualities, Princess. I will return, and I will see you again_ ," Savannah recited, still shaking. "I'm me, I swear by the Goddess."

Kessara lowered her sword and Savannah rubbed at her neck, a pang of guilt went through her. It was a necessary thing, the interrogation, for all of their safety.

Savannah drifted over to River's bed and sat down, scrubbing at her face. Kessara choked down a laugh at River's incredulous expression.

"You know," Savannah said finally, "There's a beautiful ride down the mountain I've been dying to try. Are you two free tomorrow?"

Kessara frowned. What in the Goddess' name was she talking about-?

"Yes," River said abruptly. "We're free. Right Kess?" Like her, he still hadn't let go of the darkness he'd gathered, and he turned his now void-black eyes on her. Oh yeah, she definitely preferred his blue ones.

"In the afternoon," Kessara replied, still frowning. "After training."

Savannah nodded once.

"It's a beautiful day. Let's get lunch at the _White Stallion_ " she asked. "I've been craving it since you left."

Kessara's mouth watered at the thought of her favourite restaurant. But she had reports to write here, and she had to get to the bottom of whatever was happening with the queen, not to mention trying to gain back all the muscle she lost...

"You two go ahead," River's voice cut through her thoughts. He opened his palms and let the darkness dissipate back into the air. He smiled at her. "I can see that look on your face. All your work will still be there when you get back."

"What about-"

"Me? I'm fairly sure I won't die in the next few hours."

Kessara scowled. "You'd better not."

"Great!" Savannah exclaimed. She got up and hooked her arm through Kessara's, and dragged her out of River's chambers. He gave her a mocking wave when she glanced over her shoulder, one that made her blood boil. But she gripped her friend's arm and let her lead her out to the _White Stallion._

************

"Goddess, I missed this," Kessara breathed as their usual server, Lydia, placed her food down in front of her. It smelled absolutely divine...

Savannah didn't say anything before she dug into her chicken. Kessara echoed the sentiment, and bit down on a groan at the flavours exploding in her mouth.

"So," Savannah grinned around a mouthful of food. " _I can see that look on your face._ Care to tell me what that was all about?"

Kessara rolled her eyes. "First you tease me with Alaric, and now River? Can't you see I am _not_ interested?"

Savannah smirked. "You forget, I'm an Empath. And don't think I don't notice your little slumber parties."

Kessara took another bite of her chicken. Savannah laughed.

"You know what? While we're on the subject, you and Alaric have been spending a lot of time together. Care to tell me what that's about?" Kessara asked.

That fast, Savannah's smile disappeared. She glanced around at the other diners

"Look, Kessara. There are things going on that I can't tell you about yet."

Kessara leaned forward. "I know about the queen."

She narrowed her eyes at Savannah's flinch. "We can't discuss it here." Her voice dropped to a low whisper. "The walls have eyes and ears."

She leaned back in her chair, and pasted a surprisingly convincing smile on her face. "Alaric and I are friends. He taught me how to fight when you left."

Kessara studied her for a moment. Savannah was taking her somewhere down the mountain tomorrow to get away from the listening ears, she'd figured that much. But why bring River into it? Savannah barely knew him; how could she trust him? And what, exactly, was more sensitive than the fact that an imposter was sitting on the throne of Cygnis?

"Well, we'll have to spar sometime, Princess."

Savannah grinned. "I'm looking forward to kicking your bony ass."

Kessara choked on her water, which sent her friend howling.

*************

Kessara hated this horse. Everything about him felt wrong. His gait was too bouncy, and he was way too sensitive on the bit. Nothing like Moonbeam.

She'd accidentally walked straight to Moonbeams old stall this morning, and had the shock of her life when she discovered it empty. Savannah had given her such a look of pity when she saw. Kessara shut down the memory. She didn't need pity. It was in the past.

She and River followed Savannah through the streets of the Caelum City. Kessara had just finished a workout when Savannah had hauled her off back to her chambers to 'clean up' as she put it. She'd raked a comb through Kessara's tangled waves, and looked half ready to undress her herself before Kessara managed to lock herself in the bathroom.

She hated how unfit she was now. She could barely hit the bag without wincing, and she couldn't last longer than thirty minutes. All of her clothes had to be taken in, and Gwyneth seemed to be doing way more fussing than usual. Thankfully, she hadn't said a word about the blankets she'd dragged to her twin couches. And the still-crisp sheets on her bed.

River pulled up beside her on a night-black mare. "I've only been through here once, and it was half-unconscious, but I'm fairly sure the way down the mountain was that way." He jerked his chin in the direction they just came.

He was right. While she'd been stewing about her fitness, they'd followed Savannah way off course; east, instead of taking the western path down. East, toward...

"Dear Goddess, she can't be serious."

River frowned. "What..."

"I can't be seen there...neither can she-"

"What are you talking about?"

Kessara dropped her voice to a whisper.

"The richest neighborhood in Cygnis. It's where the top crime bosses in Orbis live. If I'm seen out there? A servant of the queen? They'll shoot me through the heart the second I set foot on their street."

River's eyes widened. "She can't take you through there. Doesn't she know her life is in danger too?"

Kessara's grip tightened on the reins.

"There has to be some kind of reason. She _planned_ this, right?"

Savannah was too far ahead to hear, and didn't show any signs of hesitation.

Kessara kicked her gelding into a canter and pulled up beside her friend.

"What are you doing?" she hissed through a grit teeth.

Savannah plastered a smile on her face. "What do you mean? I said I was taking you two for a ride, and that's what I'm doing."

"Do you have any idea what they'll do to me if I show my face on their street? What they'll do to you?"

Savannah's eyes darkened. "They haven't before."

Kessara recoiled. This wasn't her first time coming out here. She'd talked to these people before. A million questions started to swirl in her mind. Why would she come down here? What was she planning? And what did she say to them in order to keep their arrows in their quivers, and not buried in Kessara's chest?

They rounded the corner. Every muscle in Kessara's body went taught as a wire. A quick glance in River's direction told her he was just as tense as she was. His jaw was clenched so tight she thought he'd break it.

"Dismount now," Savannah ordered. Kessara and River didn't even hesitate before obeying.

"Oh, and one more thing," Savannah turned toward them. "Try not to scream." 


	43. Chapter 43

Kessara clamped her jaw shut to keep from screaming as someone threw a canvas sack over her head.

Oh, dear Goddess, she was so, so dead.

But she managed to keep her breathing steady, even as the darkness in the sack threatened to take her breath away. Two pairs of rough hands gripped both of her elbows, half guiding half shoving her forward. She didn't make a sound, even as those hands tightened around her arms to the point of pain.

She would cooperate, she had to. If she put up a fight, any one of these people could kill her before she could blink, and no one would ever find her body.

Counting her steps came naturally for her. Thirty-two steps, left, twenty-seven steps, right...

Step two thousand one hundred fifty was when her foot hit empty air. Stairs. Her escorts wasted no time in nearly tossing her down them, and she almost tripped a few times before she landed on flat ground again. Ninety-seven stairs. She was very, very deep underground.

Kessara reined in a wince. No one would hear her scream this deep beneath the city.

Her captors slowed to a stop.

"Milady."

Kessara's blood turned to ice in her veins. Lady. A Lady who lived underground. She knew exactly who this was, even before the sack was ripped off her head.

A woman, not much older than she and Savannah, with waist length raven black hair and eyes as dark as Savannah's, wearing a skin-tight black leather suit adorned with corded knives and crossed swords down her back, lounged lazily in a simple wooden chair at the center of the room. The room, despite its massive size, looked unfinished; the walls carved straight out of the mountain. The mahogany floorboards looked old, but didn't make so much as a squeak as Kessara took a step forward to balance herself. The four men who had been dragging her and River down to her dungeon had moved to either side of the woman, hands crossed behind their backs. Weaponless, she noted, however she got the feeling they didn't need them. But Kessara didn't take her eyes off the woman on the throne.

"Scarlette Snowrider, Queen of the Wolves."

Wolves, for Scarlette ruled four werewolf packs: The Whitetail Pride, Nightshade Hunters, Ironhide Pack and Blackwood Banes.

Scarlette's expression didn't change as she cocked her head. "Commander Kessara Blackrose. Pleasure to meet you." Her dark gaze shifted to Kessara's left. "And who, pray tell, is your pretty friend?"

Kessara felt the energy in the room shift as her sworn enemy recited her title. She was the enemy; all servants of the crown were to criminals. But she didn't move, didn't say a word as Savannah strode right up to the most feared Crime Boss in Orbis.

"The infamous _Shadow_ ," she answered for him. Beside her, River flinched.

Scarlette turned those eyes on her friend. "Can he be trusted?"

"Kessara trusts him with her life. I trust her; therefore, I trust him."

"Hm," Scarlette mused, studying River like she could see down to his bones. Kessara still said nothing. One foot out of line and she would meet the Goddess herself.

She didn't flinch, however, even as Scarlette rose from her throne and beckoned for the room to follow.

"Come. This conversation is better had in the conference room."

Her hair swished like an inky black sheet as she strutted toward a small hallway just to the right if the throne, the only sound the clicking of her heeled boots on the mahogany floors. She disappeared around the corner, and Savannah didn't hesitate before plunging into the hallway after her. At that moment, Kessara started questioning her friend's sanity, and then her own sanity, as the beefy men that flanked Scarlette's throne grew thick dark hair all over their bodies, their noses elongating into snouts with maws filled with jagged canines, and continued after them.

Werewolves indeed.

"Is this safe?" River whispered over his shoulder to Kessara.

"They haven't killed Savannah yet," Kessara grimaced, "and they left us here alone here. We are sworn to protect the Crown Princess, and right now she's surrounded by thieves and killers."

River nodded. "What other choice do we have?"

Kessara said nothing before she dove into the dark hallway, hand on the hilt of her gold knife, River hot on her heels. The hallway entrance was so tiny Kessara had to duck to avoid hitting her head on the stone doorframe, however once she got through, the hallway opened up to one larger than those in the Cobalt Castle. And just as immaculately decorated. The rickety mahogany floors in the throne room were smooth and polished until it gleamed in the soft yellow glow of the torchlight. No windows, naturally, as they were far deep underground, but the beautiful paintings on the walls more than made up for the absence. Kessara wondered if they were stolen; they looked Breidian made, however she couldn't get a closer look at the speed at which she was hurrying through. She couldn't believe how big this place was. It must have taken years to carve out so much rock. Twists and turns; the maze of hallways had Kessara marking the chips in the paint, where some doors were mahogany and others maple, just in case she needed to navigate this place on her own. She and River remained a good ten feet away from the wolves prowling behind Scarlette and Savannah, but close enough that they wouldn't get lost in the maze. Goddess, those wolves were huge. She clamped down on the thoughts of the demon wolves she'd killed so many of on the front lines. Kessara never once took her hand of the hilt of her dagger, making sure to concentrate on the connection between her and Etherea. Just in case.

Up ahead, Scarlette and Savannah turned around another corner and disappeared into a room. River had to stoop way further than Kessara did to get through.

"What is with these doorways-"

Kessara put an arm out to silence him as her gaze settled on two people sitting at the far end of the large table in the center of the massive room. Two blond people; one of them wearing the same uniform she and River wore.

"Alaric?" she breathed.

"Hey, Kessara," he said quietly. "River."

This room too, was decorated similarly to the hallway, however no paintings hung on the walls, and a large, detailed topographic map of Orbis was imbedded into the table. Sticking out of it were large red pins. The escorting wolves remained outside of the room, thank the Goddess, while Savannah and Scarlette took up spots next to the two men. Scarlette looked at Kessara and River expectantly.

"Sit."

"How do I know I'll leave here in one piece?" Kessara replied coolly.

Scarlette jerked her chin toward Savannah, who sat just to her left. "I haven't killed her, have I? Nor your pretty blond friend over there."

"Just sit, Kessara," Savannah pleaded.

Kessara pressed her lips together. It went against every instinct, every ounce of training she'd ever received, but she pulled out one of the remaining chairs and sat. She half expected the arms to cuff her wrists and trap her there, but...nothing. Just a regular old chair.

River growled. "What is going on here."

Scarlette didn't say a word, that predatory angle of her head never leaving. She was still studying River like he was some new toy as Savannah spoke.

"We needed a safe place to talk."

"You call this safe?" River demanded. "She's a _mafia leader-_ "

Savannah snarled at him. "You would do well to keep your mouth shut until I am finished speaking."

River blinked. So did Kessara. But she shot Savannah an impressed look as River indeed shut his mouth.

Savannah continued. "You know about the queen. Whatever is sitting on the throne of Cygnis is not Queen Saphira. Not anymore at least. I'm sure you know the legends of how Avalon rose to power, and her deal with Diabolis to raise him. Since even before you left, I was feeling scared all the time. I didn't know what it was, but I was afraid to leave my room, and slept in my locked bathroom. I found Alaric, and asked him to train me. I told him about my instincts, and we tried to look into what was causing them. It got so bad that he was feeling it too." She glanced beside her at Alaric, who nodded at her to continue. "Two weeks ago, after training I followed that feeling straight into the queen's rooms. And when I looked in, she was sitting on the floor, shredded books all around, red eyes, talking to someone. It was just like in the legends. And at that moment, I knew why I was feeling such dread. My mother had summoned Diabolis into the castle, a made the same deal with him as Avalon did. And he sent her demons from the Forbidden Armies disguised at people from the castle. They've been slowly replacing everyone in the castle. I don't know where they're putting the real people whose places they took, but I'm fairly sure they're all dead or dying. So that's when I decided I needed allies that did not answer to the queen. I came here, and Scarlette agreed to help me."

Kessara sucked in a breath, trying to wrap her mind around the world-changing information her sister just shared. "Help you do what?"

"Keep a look out for demons in Polaris. Report back to me with any information they find. Be ready to fight if this comes to battle. And," Savannah lifted her chin, "to help me assassinate the queen while you two kill Avalon."

"Dear Goddess," River breathed. Kessara couldn't form words. Thankfully, Alaric spoke up.

"We've been working with Scarlette, Tristen and their wolves for the past two weeks. We've found and killed about seven hundred demons since then, with spies hidden in all of the districts. You may know Warren," Alaric gestured to the other blond, who had still not turned around since their little meeting started. He turned his head, just enough for Kessara to make out that it was, in fact, the graveyard kid she knew.

"Hello Commander."

Kessara's eyes widened. "You're a werewolf?"

He gave her a sheepish smile. "Ironhide. And a psychic."

Kessara tilted her head toward River to her left. "Your vision was true. I'm still hoping not all of it was."

Warren followed her gesture, and his jaw dropped. "Is that-"

"The _Shadow_ , we know," Scarlette barked. "Warren is our spy in shantytown. He keeps an ear out for all the latest gossip, as the stories tend to pass through the poorer areas first. But we have more important things to discuss. Tristen."

Kessara tensed as the door to the room squealed open, and another man walked in. And then her stomach dropped to the floor.

They were identical, in every way. They had the same sharp facial structure, the same raven-black hair that shone in the torchlight. But where River's eyes nearly glowed, this man's eyes looked like the northern Cygnis sky. Impossible...

"This is my Second, Tristen Silvertree. Not a wolf, but a sorcerer like us. Tristen and I joined the Whitetail Pride together. When I became Queen of the Wolves, he became my top agent. His power is valuable, all elemental sorcerers have considerable power, which is how he rose up so quickly. I'm sure you know how I became who I am." Scarlette smirked.

Of course, she did. Scarlette's story was rare, but anyone who was a top-ranking warrior knew who she was. In wolf culture, if one kills the pack leader, they become the new pack leader. The story was murky, but from what she knew, Scarlette had grown up a human in the Whitetail Pride, and when she was nineteen, killed the leaders of the Whitetail Pride, Ironhide Pack, Nightshade Hunters and Blackwood Banes, being the first person in history to unite four packs into one. How she managed to keep the peace, especially as a woman, between the rival packs, Kessara had no idea.

Scarlette continued.

"He has been overseeing my spies in the city-"

"You're supposed to be dead," River's cut her off. The other man said nothing, but the pieces were falling into place for Kessara. But River's was right, it was impossible.

"You're supposed to be dead," River repeated, voice trembling. Kessara reached under the table and grabbed his hand. He was shaking, and didn't grip back.

The other man's voice cracked. "I know."

She knew who this was.

"You're Falcon, aren't you?" Kessara breathed. "His brother."

The other man refused to look at her. "It's Tristan now."

" _Why aren't you dead?_ " River stood up abruptly and shook out of her grip. "You _died!"_

River's brother. River's twin brother who died when they were five years old, whose death caused their parents to ship River off to Khelsia to live on the streets for six years. Kessara whipped her head toward Savannah. Her friend had tears in her eyes, but no surprise on her face. And Scarlette was just watching the exchange unfold like it was some kind of sick play.

Savannah had known. That was why she brought River down here, despite barely knowing him. She'd known they were brothers the moment she'd met River in the Sana Collegium.

"I left because I thought mom and dad would treat you better if I wasn't there," Falcon said quietly.

River's expression was pure agony. "Do you want to know what they did? They threw me on the next ship when I didn't show on our birthday to Khelsia and never looked back!I slowly starved for six years before Avalon captured me. She broke me over and over again, and it's all your fault. You took _everything_ from me!"

Falcon took a shuddering breath, tears streaming down his face now.

"No," River snarled, "you don't get to cry. Not when _I_ starved for six years, not when she tortured and whipped and manipulated _me_. I'm a killer now; I _kill_ people! How could you? How could you just leave me there with them?"

"I thought-"

"You thought wrong."

"I was five years old, River-,"

River slammed his hand down on the table so hard it made her jump. "That's not an excuse!"

"River-" Savannah tried. He ignored her.

"Do you want to know what I did to your mom and dad?" he asked quietly. When Tristen didn't answer, his face split into a savage grin. Kessara cringed. She'd never seen that expression on his face before. It looked so _wrong..._ "I slit their throats. I watched them bleed to death, and I enjoyed seeing the pain and fear in their eyes, knowing their own son killed them. _I_ killed them. And it's your fault."

Tristen stumbled back a step.

"I left because I thought you would do better without me," Tristen said, voice breaking. "I didn't know they would do that to you, brother. I was only a kid! If I had, I would never have-"

"You are not my brother." River's whole body was shaking. Kessara's heart cracked. "I had a brother once, and she made me stab him through the heart. All because you left."

"I'm sorry," Tristen tried.

"I don't forgive you."

Tristen collapsed into the nearest chair. River didn't move, didn't speak, just stared at his brother in a mixture of awe and hot rage. No one said a word, not until River slowly resumed his seat next to Kessara. He didn't take his eyes off Tristen, but reached over and grabbed her hand like it was the only thing keeping him sane. She didn't object.

"Somebody had better explain the meaning of this, right now." Kessara's voice, despite her low tone, sounded ear-splittingly loud following the absolute silence there was before. She turned her eyes to Savannah.

Her friend flinched under her gaze. But it was Scarlette who spoke up.

"When Savannah met River after meeting Tristen, she knew they had to be related. Tristen had thought his twin was dead, until Savannah described him. But that's not why we brought you down here, River. Nor why we brough Tristen into the meeting.

River was still shaking next to her, but he said nothing, much to Kessara's relief.

"Like I was saying," Scarlette continued, shooting a pointed glance at Tristen. He ignored her, just staring at his lap. "Tristen has been overseeing my spies in the city since the Crown Princess convinced us to lend our aid. He has been working on this map," she gestured to the map of Orbis inscribed into the table before them. "Each of the red pins represents a demon we've sniffed out and killed. Thankfully, you talked of your experience with demons to the Crown Princess enough so that she knew they smelled of sulfur. As you can see, the demons have been concentrated here," she pointed to a cluster of red pins, "by the castle."

Kessara's stomach turned. She thought she left the constant fear of demon attacks at the battle camp in Arisia three years ago. Turns out they were hiding under her nose. There was no way she was sleeping tonight, that's for sure.

"The rest are more spread out, but we're seeing an influx in demon activity in the wealthier areas of the city, with certain high-fashion designers and influencers are being replaced. We still don't know where the original people are."

"Dead, most likely. Demons aren't smart enough to keep them silent and alive somewhere this long," Kessara mused, unable to help herself.

Scarlette's expression didn't change, but she gestured to Alaric.

"Commander Pyroak has said he has not spent his time on the front lines with you. He has said you are a soldier, and he is a spy, thus your knowledge of demons will be helpful in their extermination from the city. As for you, _Shadow-_ "

"It's River."

A small smile twitched at the corner of Scarlette's mouth. "River, you have an inside look into Avalon's castle. Plus, you have an impressive record as an assassin, and your power is otherworldly. Noctokinetic, that's what we're calling it. Warren's vision of both of you shows your importance to this cause, especially considering that he was telling the truth when he told you his only other vison also came true."

"I didn't have much of a look," River grumbled. "She kept me in a cell for the majority of the time."

Across the table, Tristen cringed. River ignored him, but his grip on Kessara's hand tightened.

This time, Savannah spoke up.

"This is the only way, Kessara, and you know it. We can't win by force alone; you told me yourself the army is infinite. The only way is going to the source. The queens have to die."

"Don't you think I know that?" Kessara snapped. "Why do you think your mother sent me to find the _Shadow_? Why she made me interview survivors of the Malum Woods? The soldiers are just holding her at bay until we could find a way to kill her."

Savannah frowned. "What, they cannot be killed simply?"

Kessara laughed without humor. "No. Diabolis wouldn't keep them mortal, and their powers are too strong to get close enough for beheading; they'll see it coming. But I may be able to kill her with my powers."

"Really?" Scarlette leaned forward in her seat, studying Kessara with those dark eyes. So similar to Savannah's, yet without the life or joy. Just a calm cunning, like she could see straight to Kessara's bones.

Kessara pulled down a thread of ethereal energy, the blue glow casting shadows across their faces, and twirled it through her fingers.

"Avalon's power comes from demon energy. It's how she became so strong after she made the deal with Diabolis."

She concentrated the energy into a glowing blue orb in the center of her palm. And suddenly, without giving the wolves time to intercept, she slammed the orb into River's shoulder.

Everyone in the room leapt up, the wolves lunging for her, Alaric to her right leaping backward, Savannah shouting her name, River swearing viscously. She silenced all of them with a wave of her hand.

Nothing happened. The energy just...disappeared.

"River and I, our energy disappears when it connects. Light and dark, opposites cancel. Nothing happens. But ethereal and demonic energy? I'm betting the two will reject. And when it does, it'll cause a hell of an explosion."

Everyone just stared at her.

Kessara rolled her eyes. "Look, he's _fine_. I know what I was doing."

Scarlette, unsurprisingly, still hadn't moved from her seat. She watched Kessara with those dark eyes, her gaze somehow more intense than it was before. Kessara stared back. Finally, the crime boss leaned back in her chair.

"Fascinating," she mused.

Kessara braced her elbows on the table, letting her eyes flash. "You seem like you've done a lot for our cause, Scarlette. Tell me, what's in it for you? Why would you help servants of the Crown?"

A chorus of low growls sounded from the wolves sitting outside the room.

"Watch your tone," Tristen warned. Kessara ignored him.

Scarlette resumed that predatory tilt of her head. It was an effort to remember than Scarlette was a sorceress, not a wolf.

"I admire you, Kessara. A woman, so successful in a man's world. You challenged the standards, and emerged victorious." As if noticing the shock Kessara tried so hard to hide, Scarlette's wolfish smile widened. "Don't think I don't know what it's like in that pretty marble castle. I know what those pigs think of women who outsmart and out-muscle them. I dealt with the same in my own pack. In many ways, you and I are alike. Young women in power, fighting oppression in our male-dominated fields. But where you serve your country because you want to help people, I became who I am because I like the colour gold."

Kessara turned to Savannah. "You offered her money?"

She watched her friend's throat bob. "I offered to legitimatize her...businesses. And lend my aid in recruiting the Bloodmoon Prowlers to her ranks."

The Bloodmoon Prowlers. The last remaining independent wolf pack, sworn enemies of Scarlette's united packs. Savannah must have offered to help kill their leader in exchange for Scarlette's help killing the queen.

Kessara snarled. "You're a psychopath."

"I prefer 'businesswoman'," Scarlette shot back. "In any case, you need us. Accept the help you are given, Kessara. We're far more trustworthy than any of those snakes in the castle."

Interesting. That's twice now she's mentioned her hatred for those living in the castle. Kessara tucked the information into the back of her mind.

"Fine," Kessara said, leaning back in her chair. "But if you betray us, I will hunt you down and tear you apart."

Scarlette grinned. "Looking forward to it."

Beside her, Alaric cleared his throat. Right, she'd forgotten he was there.

"Milady, the _viribus_ bond," he said quietly.

Scarlette gestured for him to continue.

"River, our _viribus_ bond could be invaluable in this war. Perhaps our combined power could be enough to turn the tide. We need some extra power, especially since the opposition is apparently infinite."

Kessara pondered for a moment. It was a solid idea. _Viribus_ were incredibly rare and incredibly powerful, if the bonded pair could unlock the secrets to their connection.

"It makes sense."

Kessara turned, eyebrows raised, as River continued. "This is war. Anything we can use to kill the bitch, I'm willing to try."

Scarlette tilted her head, dark hair sliding over her brow.

"You forget, River. Now we have two bitches to kill."

Kessara ignored the chill that went down her spine. Especially as the faerie queen was now a player she hadn't counted on until recently. Would her presence bring the total to three? Or would she be a possible ally? She would have to do more research later.

"You know why Avalon is so desperate to get across the Aspero Channel, yes?" Kessara asked.

"She's trying to get to the Silva Forest," Warren replied, "Alaric told us."

Right. Alaric was with her when she discovered Avalon's motives. He refused to meet her eyes.

"The Silva Forest is right in our backyard. The queen doesn't need to cross anything accept the tree line to get to the spot Diabolis crashed through." Kessara chewed her lip. "If the queen really did make the same deal as Avalon, she has access to the Forbidden Armies. We could find ourselves fighting a two-front war. This just became a whole lot harder."

Scarlette drummed her fingers on the table. "We need an army."

"From where?" Savannah asked. "The castle is crawling with demons wearing human skins. Half of them have capes just like yours, Kessara. It's completely different this time."

Kessara thought for a moment. "I have allies with the Marshals across Orbis. They aren't trained soldiers, but they can fight and have magic. As for the demons in disguise," she smiled at River, then Alaric, "sounds like a problem for our resident spies."

Scarlette studied Kessara for a moment.

"I know why they made you a Commander, Kessara." There was nothing warm on her face, but something in the other young woman's eyes changed. Kessara frowned, but she couldn't decipher whatever it was. It disappeared as soon as it came, and Scarlette went back to that cunning calm.

"But what is she waiting for?" Tristen asked. River's death-grip on Kessara's hand tightened, like he couldn't stand the sound of his brother's voice. Goddess, his _brother_... "Why hasn't she tried raising Diabolis before?"

"The Thinning," Kessara confirmed. "Every seventy-seven years, the veil between realms thins. She can't raise Diabolis because she doesn't know when the last Thinning was, so she doesn't know when the next one will be."

"Do you?"

Kessara shook her head. "But I know how to find out. Every Thinning, beings from the other realms fall through the portal. Their bloodlines mixing with humans created sorcerers. If we can track down one of these beings, they could tell us when the last Thinning was."

Warren frowned. But whatever he was thinking about, he didn't share with the group.

"We have other powerful allies who could join our cause," River said from beside her. Kessara watched Tristen's jaw tighten. How eerie, that they had the same tells despite spending eighteen years apart. "Charlie, a healer; Daemien, a hallucikinetic; and Sloane, who was also a witness to Avalon's castle. Allesia is a powerless, but she's got a lot of potential as a warrior."

"Their presence would be welcome," Savannah affirmed.

Kessara must have missed a lot while she was away. Her friend had grown a backbone, it seemed. She held herself a little straighter, spoke with more authority, and managed to organize all of this in the span of a month. Not to mention how she'd snapped at River earlier. Kessara still didn't fully trust Scarlette and her gang of money-hungry wolves, but from what Savannah had told her, she didn't have much choice.

"We meet again in a week," Savannah stood up. "Kessara will send flares out tonight to the stationhouses across Orbis for allies. River and Alaric will work on their _viribus_ bond, and Scarlette and Tristen will keep a look out for demons in the city. Try to find out where they are putting the real people they replaced, and we'll try to figure out when the next Thinning is."

"Yes, Princess," Scarlette said. 


	44. Chapter 44

Kessara and River were going on the fifth hour in the palace library. They'd managed to gather some intel on Avalon, as well as Etherea and Zanhara. None of the books contained anything about Limbo, the realm River's power came from, but considering Kessara only learned of its existence a little over a month ago, she couldn't be all that surprised.

It was a week after their impromptu meeting with mafia crime boss Scarlette Snowrider, and Kessara had sent flares out that night to every stationhouse Marshal she could remember, and then dug through dusty archive boxes to find the names of the rest. She practically ordered them to stay silent, but start gathering their resources, and to be ready to fight when she called on them. She considered sending a flare to King Orion, but Diabolis seemed to be going after royals and she couldn't be sure that Orion hadn't been convinced to take the same deal.

Almost all of them had responded right away, agreeing to her terms without question; all except Zephyr Rockshade. When she told River this, he'd launched into pacing back and forth in her sitting room. For an hour. He'd still not told her what his relationship with Zephyr was. Whenever she would bring up the subject, he would just shut down, like he was lost in memory. There was something deeply personal there, she knew that much. What it was, she had no idea. Perhaps they'd fallen out, or maybe he'd almost killed him while under Avalon's control. Only the Goddess knew.

River, who was leaning off his chair upside-down reading a book on Etherea, groaned and stretched.

"I think my back is broken," he winced as he put his arms out in front of him and arched his back like a cat.

Kessara mirrored the movement, and winced as her sore muscles pulled.

"Find anything?" she asked.

He ran his tongue across his teeth. "Well, it's the same legends we grew up with. The three ethereal sisters; Romina, Ravana and Sienna, rule Etherea with the Great Goddess. Their brother, Diabolis, was cast out for trying to kill them, and he crashed through that spot in the Silva Forest into Zanhara. He created demons; you know the rest."

Kessara pursed her lips. "We've read the same passage over and over again about the three ethereal sisters, and how Diabolis was cast out. But there's nothing on the Thinning, or where we can find one of the beings that fall through the portal."

River glanced around the library, the golden glow of the single hearth they'd lit casting eerie shadows down the maze of bookshelves, before lowering his voice to a soft whisper. "There's that, but none of the books mention Limbo, or even why Diabolis tried to kill his sisters. We can easily assume it was because of his desire for power, but nothing says anything specific." His voice dropped impossibly lower, and he tore his eyes away from hers to stare over her head at the door. "As for the faerie queen? Nothing on that either. And what in hell is a 'sanctus'?"

They'd had to be extremely careful in their research while remaining in the palace. Kessara understood what Savannah had meant by feeling a constant sense of dread, and found herself walking with her knees bent, feet light, as if she was ready for a fight. And now that she knew some of the guards she'd come to know so well in the castle may be demons in disguise? Well, she'd barely slept for the past week, even with River staying on the couch next to her. He hadn't slept either, though they never discussed it, and spent his days stumbling through _viribus_ exercises in the training room with Alaric. With the walls having eyes and ears, Kessara and River spoke in forced lightness in the hallways, and talked about their findings in hushed whispers or in coded language.

Kessara shook her head. "All I know about that is that you, me and Zephyr are considered sanctus. The faerie queen wanted me, and had you in her clutches. Avalon wanted me and you as well, and now Zephyr isn't answering my flares. We must be valuable, but for what, I don't know."

River scrubbed at his face. "So, what do we know so far? Avalon made a deal with Diabolis for more power, and in return she has to raise him from Zanhara using the spot in the Silva Forest."

"Yes," Kessara replied, "the place where the veil between realms is the thinnest. But how will she open the door to let him out? Yes, the veils will be at their thinnest, but the door still must be opened, right? What if she needs the sanctus to open it?"

River winced. "Goddess, I hope not."

Kessara had to agree.

River stood up and brushed invisible dirt off his dark green waistcoat. Over the past two weeks he'd gained a lot of his weight back. The combination of regular meals and extensive training had the outline of his bones disappearing, and his arms and shoulders bore the faint signs of oncoming muscle. His deathly pale skin had deepened to a healthier glow, a splash of pink across his cheeks, which somehow made him even prettier than he'd been before. Not that she noticed, of course.

Those icy eyes glanced over to the large clock above the hearth. Nine-o-clock.

"Let's wrap it up for the day. We'll go out into town tomorrow and see what we can squeeze out of the civilians." He grabbed her hand and helped her out of her own chair.

They quickly put their spread of books away, exactly where they'd found them, brushing off any traces of their fingerprints off the covers before leaving for the Commander Wing.

It had become habit for Kessara to keep her hand on the pommel of her gold dagger while walking through the castle halls, and the familiar feeling of dread gripped her as soon as she set foot outside the library. The castle wasn't empty: guards, servants, and healers mingling about, retrieving final items for the night or patrolling the hallways. Kessara hated that she couldn't trust any of them. She and River stuck close together, speaking casually in pre-rehearsed conversations to avoid any suspect. No one could know that they knew about the queen, or else they would be targets.

When they finally made it back to Kessara's chambers, she unlocked the three locks she had installed on her door. It was an effort not to run when the tinkerer had asked why she wanted so many locks. She claimed her time alone on the road looking for the _Shadow_ made her paranoid. It seemed to do the trick, but she certainly didn't get much sleep that night. Her door creaked loudly as she opened it. She'd made sure of it. If a hostile were to open the door while she was in her chambers, the creak would alert her in time for her to prepare. All the lights were off; another safety measure, to alert her to anyone possibly waiting inside. They would have turned the lights on, and she would be able to feel if the bulbs were warm. River entered first, curling his hands into fists and taking all the darkness with them. And a huge, lumbering ball of brown fur stumbled toward them.

"Teddy!"

Kessara loosed a sigh of relief. No demons were waiting to tear her heart out in the sitting area and kitchen, only her favourite pooch, whom she forgot was staying with her tonight. She reached down to scratch his ears, and his pink tongue lolled out to lick her fingers, before following River into her bedroom, which was thankfully empty. She flicked on the lights, and River let go of the darkness he'd gathered, those void-black eyes returning to her much-preferred icy blue.

River frowned. "Did we get food?"

Kessara's stomach was so twisted up in knots navigating the castle she didn't even remember that she was hungry. They'd studied straight through dinner.

"No," Kessara sighed, collapsing onto the bed, "we didn't."

River sprawled out on the bed beside her, resting his head on his hands. Teddy jumped up too, and rested his big fuzzy head on River's chest. He smiled down at her pet, and idly stroked the dog's ears.

"I can go down to the kitchens and get something for us," he offered.

Kessara's chest tightened. The thought of him entering the warzone with no backup...

"Kess," he said with mocking gentleness, "If I die, my funeral had better be bigger than the Hallows Eve Ball." He laughed as she swatted his arm. "Oh, and if I'm injured on this mission for...wait what are they serving today?"

Kessara rolled her eyes at the stupid joke she knew was coming. "Fish, I think."

"If I'm injured on this mission for fish, then you can just kiss my wounds better."

"Absolutely not!" Kessara shoved him off her bed. "I already saved your life, oh, how many times now?"

River grinned. "Just once."

Kessara gaped at him. "Did you forget the Dead Zone?"

"You got knocked out and inhaled a bunch of water."

Right. And subsequently killed everyone else aboard that ship. Along with...no. That was in the past.

"Well, what about the vampires?"

River cringed. "Fine. You've saved my life twice."

It was her turn to grin. "Which is why I'm fairly sure I'll have to do it a third time. I'm coming with you."

She made to stand up, but River pushed her back down. "Oh no, the least I can do for the woman who saved my life _twice_ is get her some food. Sit down, I'll be right back."

Kessara didn't have it in her to argue.

And so, River walked out her front door. She couldn't wait for when she'd be able to stop wondering if he would come back alive.

She made for her bedroom once again, shucking off her casual Commander uniform in favor of a simple black shirt and shorts, Teddy following her every move. She unbraided her hair and washed her face. She tilted her head from side to side in the mirror. River wasn't the only one who'd gained back the weight he'd lost. Her face looked less gaunt, and her hip bones had once again disappeared. But the new scratches on her neck worried her. They were from the night before, and the small tin of ointment Charlie had given her so many weeks before had emptied. Kessara didn't want to explain to the healers how she'd gotten the wounds, so she'd left them to heal naturally, much to River's protest. He'd leaned against the bathroom doorframe at two in the morning with his arms crossed and watched her clean the cuts.

Such fussing, it was like he thought she'd never been wounded before. She spent a year on the front lines, she knew how to clean her own wounds.

She headed to the sitting room to retrieve the blankets Gwyneth had so graciously set out for them. Her beloved servant still hadn't said a word about her...sleeping arrangements. Which was a nice relief as her sister hadn't _stopped_ talking about it.

She and Savannah had stolen away on their own a few times over the past week, just to their usual spots; the _White Stallion,_ their favourite lookout spot at the summit of the Divum Mountain. Kessara had avoided the conversation topic like the plague, but Savannah refused to let it drop. It was difficult to find other things to discuss besides that, the Hallows Eve Ball, and their training progress, considering any war planning was too dangerous. Allesia and Sloan had joined them for a meal at the _White Stallion_ a few days ago, and absolutely loved it. She and Savannah had decided to wait to tell them, Daemien and Charlie about the queen and their alliance with the Queen of the Wolves until their next meeting, which was in two days' time. Her friends had begun to train with the other Commanders.

Floyd and Allesia had become instant friends, and Allesia's natural fighting abilities had grown immensely with proper training from Floyd. Sloane and Atlas Sanlyn had also become fast friends, and spent their days roaming the gardens or watching Allesia and Floyd spar. Daemien usually worked with Kessara. His fighting style fascinated her; it was so elegant and graceful, yet she could find herself caught in a submission hold in seconds. She learned a few things from him, and he learned from her, it seemed. And Charlie...well, Charlie hadn't left the Sana Collegium since River was a patient there. They had him on a kind of apprenticeship, he'd written to her in a letter, and that if he impressed them, they would allow him to study there. She knew he would.

She sat down on her usual couch, Teddy hopping up beside her and sprawling out on her lap. Well, he tried to. He was nearly as tall as Priscilla now, which is to say, absolutely massive for a dog, and only managed to get his head and one paw over her legs. She half wondered if Savannah had somehow accidentally adopted a bear.

It had been exactly ten minutes since River left. Now, there was nothing else to do but worry. She hated this feeling, hated how she never knew if her friends would come back alive. Yes, River slept in her rooms, and yes, Savannah slept in Alaric's rooms next door and yes, Sloane, Allesia, and Daemien were right next to each other in the Guard Wing which was on the same side of the castle as the Commander Wing, but she could never shake the feeling that at the end of all this, not all of them would make it through to the other side.

Teddy's head snapped up, staring directly at the door. Kessara's heart thudded, and she unsheathed her dagger, rising as quietly as she could and heading for the door. She nearly jumped out of her skin when someone knocked. Four knocks, three soft, one hard. It was either River, Savannah or Alaric, the only ones who knew and used the combination. She unlocked the door, yanked the outsider in, and put her dagger to his throat.

It was River, as expected, unmistakable with that dark hair wicked scar from his hairline to his jaw. He was carrying a tray in one arm with two steaming plates of a fish that looked like salmon. His other hand was up in surrender.

He smirked. "Reminds me of the alley, doesn't it?"

Okay, it was most definitely River, but she wasn't taking any chances.

"When did you tell me about your scar?"

He answered easily. "We played a question for a question in our first night in the Fascinare forest."

She put her dagger back into her waistband, and double checked the locks before following River to her small dining room table. They ate quickly, River scratching behind Teddy's ears while he begged for a bite of his food. Kessara complained that he was encouraging her dog's bad behavior, but River insisted that his puppy eyes were too dramatic to resist.

"So, for tomorrow," River said around a mouthful of food, "what's the plan?"

Kessara swallowed. "The castle library doesn't have enough intel on what we need to know. Perhaps the other side of town may have some interesting people to talk to. Sirius is only a day's ride, perhaps their cities may hold answers."

Sirius, their neighboring kingdom to the north, was an incredibly popular tourist spot for nobles looking to get a taste of 'culture'. But to the educated, it was a mysterious and ancient country. It had been a thriving kingdom when the first queen of Cygnis Reina was born, and kept meticulous records and museums of their history. There were many interpretations of the artifacts found over the decades, yet no one seemed to know exactly how Sirius was formed so long ago. Her own knowledge of the country was limited, but they few times she'd gone to check on the stationhouses the people had been...eccentric, to say the least. Many people claiming to be witches or psychics lined the streets, and most of the buildings bore the traditional intricate architecture signature of their ancientness. It was a country of the most expensive art and music, which made it such a catch to the rich tourists. But the underground; if one wanted information on legends that no one else knew, Sirius was the place to go.

River frowned, like he was trying to remember something. "I-I don't know if I've been there before."

Kessara pressed her lips together. "It's okay. I've only been a few times to check on the stationhouses and I don't think there were any reported _Shadow_ cases there."

The tension in his shoulders visibly loosened.

"The place is full of people who think their vacation there makes them cultured," Kessara continued. "But it's really old; older than Cygnis, and many of the locals make their living off tourism. Perhaps they have some legends or old books in their museums that could give us something to work with."

River nodded absently, still distracted by her dog. Teddy licked his chin.

"Okay, I'm heading to bed, you lovebirds," Kessara got up and put her plate in the sink before drifting over to triple-check her locks. Once she was absolutely sure that her room was fortified, she curled up on her couch. It wasn't long before Teddy flopped down next to her, and River stretched out on the opposite couch across the coffee table.

She could never tell when he fell asleep. He slept so silently; one would think he was dead. Kessara cringed. She hated that analogy. But before long, she was asleep too.

For the first time in a long time, Kessara didn't dream.

***********

Kessara awoke to River shaking her shoulders.

"Goddess, you sleep like the dead," he grumbled after she managed to sit up, head still foggy from sleep. "Alaric and Savannah are waiting for us in the training room."

Kessara blinked the grogginess from her eyes. "It's so early."

River put his arms under hers and hauled her out of bed. "You can't be serious. It's ten o' clock. Put some clothes on."

Still half dazed, she stumbled into her bedroom and raked a comb through her hair, before putting on her training clothes. When she made it back into her sitting room, Gwyneth was there, talking animatedly to River. Had they met before? Kessara couldn't remember... 

When her beloved servant saw the state of Kessara's hair, she gasped.

"Oh, no dear, your fly-aways'!"

River's eyebrows shot up. "Um, Ms. Gwyneth, we have to-"

Gwyneth ignored him, and half-shoved Kessara into a chair, yanking her hair into a braid so tight, Kessara thought her eyebrows were an inch higher on her forehead.

She gripped the edge of the chair. "Gwyneth, I need to leave."

"Not until your hair is clean."

"You do know I'm a Commander, right?"

Gwyneth smiled. "I knew you when you were a soldier grunt, my dear. You will always be that girl to me."

Well, that was one way to wake a girl up. Kessara flinched at the mention of her past. At the leering and joking and teasing that made her life a living hell. Before she'd grown a spine and clawed her way to the top.

River's eyes narrowed. But he said nothing as she finally escaped her servant's clutches. Said nothing as he disappeared into her bedroom to change into his own training clothes. Nothing, as they finally meandered down the hallway to the training room where Alaric was waiting.

Savannah was there as well, and the two of them sparred in the ring with blunt spears.

Alaric sidestepped a swipe, and dropped low, trying to kick out Savannah's feet. Her friend jumped, twirled, and roundhouse kicked Alaric's side. He grabbed her foot, however, and pushed up, sending Savannah sprawling backward.

"Good technique," Alaric said, wiping sweat from his brow as Savannah scrambled to get up, "Just have to think through the fight."

"He's right," Kessara said, coming up behind her friend. Savannah jumped, and put a hand on her chest.

"Goddess, woman! Don't sneak up on me like that."

Kessara laughed. "Sorry."

River grinned at her friend. "Don't listen to them, you could easily beat him

Savannah grinned back. Kessara winced. Dear Goddess, this was going to be a dangerous friendship.

"Hey, I won that one, if you couldn't tell," Alaric called over his shoulder.

"Not for long," River called back. "It's my turn to kick your ass, pretty boy. Toss e some wraps, will you?"

Alaric grinned and chucked the cloth at him. "Anything for you, sugar."

River smirked as he ducked under the ropes into the ring.

Kessara cocked her head. "Since when did they get so chummy? Last time I saw them together, Alaric threw a knife at River's head."

Savannah jerked her chin toward them, who had started trading insults in the ring.

"Since Alaric started flirting back."

Both burst into laughter so loud, River and Alaric stopped sniping long enough to give them a weird look, which only made them laugh harder.

Kessara and Savannah wandered over to the heavy bags while Alaric and River began to spar. They still had no idea how their magic connected. Even the magnitude of their power didn't fit. Alaric was incredibly powerful, yes, but River was the second most powerful sorcerer in Orbis. The only thing they really had in common was the fact they were both spies. But River, River wasn't conscious for most of his assassinations. Even the way they fought was different. Alaric was sneakier, whereas River had Kessara's own fighting style; explosive and quick, though inexperienced. Most of the time, River ended up on his ass, though he'd started to incorporate some of Alaric's signature moves. It was natural, for a new fighter to be influenced by their instructors, but River seemed to absorb everything. Kessara figured he'd out-match both of them, one day.

Just as Kessara had finished wrapping her own knuckles, she whipped her dagger out as a flash of fire sparked in the air above her head. Savannah yelped, leaping backward, and River and Alaric stopped dead.

A flare. Kessara sheathed her dagger, breathing deep to calm her racing heartbeat at the scare, and gingerly plucked the fluttering piece of paper out of the air. River and Alaric had already bolted for the doors to check the locks, and Savannah closed her eyes, probably using her empathy powers to feel for anyone in the general vicinity. Kessara kept the paper folded until all three nodded at her to open it.

With shaking fingers, she unfurled the parchment, Savannah, Alaric and River looking over her shoulder.

It was addressed to her and Alaric from a general whose name she didn't recognize. A battle report, from the legion she had Alaric send to the Kraken Cove. She skimmed it quickly; they'd won the battle, the demons had fled or been destroyed, and most of Khelsia had survived. But the line at the very end of the report had her blood run cold.

_Marshal Rockshade is missing._


	45. Chapter 45

"River?" Kessara asked into the darkness.

He'd barely said a word since the flare they got that morning. Since they learned Marshal Zephyr Rockshade was missing. Alaric and Savannah left quickly after that, Alaric ghostly pale and wide eyed at River, whispering something about the Bond. And River, River had just gone to the heavy bags in the corner of the room, and hit them, over and over again for hours until his hands were raw and knuckles bleeding. She'd ordered him to the castle healers, but Kessara agreed that they needed to find Zephyr; he was a sanctus, like her and River, for whatever value they had. If Avalon got her hands on him, it could be disastrous in the war.

It was now midnight, and the only one asleep was Teddy, who was near lying on top of her.

River didn't answer, but she knew he heard her.

"What happened between you and Zephyr Rockshade?"

She heard him shift on his couch, and she rolled over to find him looking at her. His face held no humor, just a flaming intensity in those eyes.

"A question for a question, Kess. Remember?"

Kessara's chest tightened. "Yes," she breathed, "I remember."

He pressed his lips together, like he was gearing himself up for whatever he had to tell her.

"When my parents shipped me off to Khelsia, I spent my first night sleeping behind a dumpster. There was this little space with an old tarp or blanket – I can't remember which – hanging above it so it blocked out some of the rain. That night, I woke up to someone shaking my shoulder. It was Zephyr." River took a shaky breath. "He gave me half of the bread he stole from the market. He was kind to me, for once in my miserable life. And from then on, we became best friends. We stole together, practiced magic together, lived together. He was so much like me, and I was so much like him...we called each other 'brother'. I was the only one he told about his power. He hated it, you know, controlling demon energy. It was such the opposite of who he was, and he never wanted to scare people away. He loved people, even those who ignored his begging in the streets. He trusted me, and I trusted him."

Even in the darkness, she could still see him swiping at his eyes. When he continued, his voice was thick.

"And then _she_ captured me. It was two years of torture before she discovered at had something other than myself to lose. We must have been fourteen, I think. She sent me back to Khelsia. This was before she messed up my face and completely mind-controlled me. She had me under this kind of body-control. I was completely conscious but I had no control over my limbs. She made me find Zephyr, and when I did, he cried at my feet. He begged to know why I left him alone, why I left without saying goodbye. _She_ wouldn't let me speak so," his voice cracked, and along with it, Kessara's heart, "so I couldn't tell him that I never wanted to leave, that she captured me and I was being tortured. Instead of telling Zephyr how much I loved him, she made me spit in his face, and tell him that he was a monster for his demon power, and that I never loved him. And she made me pick up the butter knife we stole when we were ten so we could cut our bread, and stab him through the heart."

Kessara couldn't breathe. "River-"

"I don't think she knew that she needed him when she gave that order; she just wanted to break me. And I fought against her with everything I had, which isn't much, but it was too strong. All I could do was watch my own hand plunge that knife into my best friend's chest. But my fighting did something, I think, because the knife went in just a hair too far left. It missed his heart."

Kessara thought back to that scar on Zephyr's shoulder she'd noticed when she first met him in the Khelsia stationhouse. She had no idea River was the one who gave it to him

"And all I could feel was relief, until _she_ dragged me back to her castle," he went on, "She thought he was dead, and I let her believe it if only to keep my brother safe. But after what she made me say to him? What thoughts she dragged from the corners of my mind to twist and throw in his face? He hated me. He thought I betrayed him, but he never knew that the _Shadow_ he was hunting was his best friend. Former," he corrected himself, "former best friend. I watched him over the years she let me out of the castle. I knew that I could never let him see me, because _she_ would know that he was alive. But I couldn't bring myself to get close to him anyway, because I knew he still hated me. And now he's missing."

Kessara watched him sit up on her couch, and put his face in his hands.

"That's why you wanted me to use your alias when we saw him on the docks in Khelsia."

He nodded.

"Goddess Kess, what if _she_ has him? What if he's being tortured the way I was?"

Kessara was silent for a moment, trying to take in the heartbreaking story he'd just told her. Avalon must have found out that Zephyr was the last sanctus when he was fighting in the Kraken Cove before the Cygnis legion arrived. That's why he hadn't been answering her flares. That, or he died in the battle and his body was lost to the depths of the Cove. She preferred the former; at least Avalon would keep him alive. In what state, she had no idea. But alive, nonetheless.

Eventually, she rose from her couch, walked over to his, and sat down on the floor next him.

"We'll find him," she said softly. "And we'll make her pay."

She watched his throat bob a few times before he lowered his hands from his face. He stared into the darkness for a while, and she stared with him, unsure of what to say. But then a memory of Zephyr hit her like a ton of bricks.

"He doesn't hate you, River."

He whipped his head toward her. "I threw every insecurity he told me back in his face, and I nearly killed him. Why wouldn't he hate me?"

Kessara shrugged. "When I met him in Khelsia, I asked who else knew about his powers. He said no one, except his old Marshal and his childhood best friend. I didn't notice at first, but he kept swallowing. It's the same gesture you make when you're emotional. You mimic his cues, and vice versa. I don't think he hates you, I think he misses you."

River's shoulders hunched further and further inwards with every word, and in the pale moonlight streaming through the crack in her curtains she could see his face was shining with tears. She couldn't help but reach up and wipe them away with her thumb. He looked at her incredulously, but reached up to cover her hand on his cheek with his own. They stayed like that for a few moments, before River spoke.

"Don't think this gets you out of answering your question."

Kessara rolled her eyes and pulled her hand out of his grip. His fingers remained curled, like he was holding onto the ghost of the hand she'd just taken back, before dropping into his lap. But he shifted off the couch to sit on the floor beside her.

"Ask away," Kessara urged after he spent a moment studying her with those now-clear blue eyes.

"Scarlette mentioned something about what the 'pigs' in this castle do to women who outsmart and out-muscle them, and then today you flinched when Ms. Gwyneth talked about your days as a soldier grunt. Your nose is also slightly crooked, in two places, which means you probably broke it twice. So my question is, how did you become a Commander?"

Kessara curled her hands into fists. She hated this game.

"You have to answer, remember? It's in the rules."

"We made up this game."

"Semantics."

"Fine," Kessara grumbled. "I started like every other soldier. I came to the castle, and I trained. The thing is, the warriors are almost entirely made up of men. When I showed up, this scrawny little twelve-year-old girl with no where else to go and powers that way outmatched any of theirs, well, it was no wonder I'd bear the brunt of the jokes. At first it was just light teasing, which is fine. I lived on the streets for most of my life, I was a tough girl already. But as I progressed, I outshone the others. When I got stronger, the teasing became harassing. I rose through the ranks quickly, I got the promotions, and the men didn't like that. They told me I should be a servant or a healer instead. They told me I didn't belong in the army. They told me I would break like a china doll in real battle. They started messing with my equipment, putting my swords out in the rain so when the drill sergeants came, they would reprimand me for having a rusted blade. They would do everything they could to tear me down to raise themselves up. As I grew older, the harassment became less about my abilities and more about my appearance. I never wore makeup, I never showed any skin, I had my hair tied up at all times yet they would still comment on my body, what they would do to me if they got the chance. They told me to smile more, that I would be so pretty if I smiled. I had to lock my doors in the guard wing for fear they would come into my room while I slept."

River swore under his breath, but Kessara continued.

"One day, during a training drill on escaping capture, they beat me so badly I spent a week in the Hospital Wing. My nose was broken for the first time then. I sported two black eyes, a broken arm, fractured hip, as well as bruised ribs and internal bleeding in my abdomen. It healed quickly enough, especially with the healing magic the healers from the Sana Collegium worked on me, but it hurt like a bitch."

"And your superiors did nothing?" River asked quietly.

Kessara shook her head. "Most of them agreed that women had no place in the army. The stress of it got so bad my hair was falling out in chunks, and I could barely eat. But one day, one day one of the men told me to pull my shirt down a bit more, so he could see my chest. He wanted something pretty to look at during the long training hours. That was the day I decided I wasn't going to be their punching bag. I learned that men are intimidated by strong women. They boosted their own egos seeing me cry when they sneered and shouted at and belittled me. I decided that they would never see me cry again. I decided that I was going to become everything they feared I would be. I shut everything out. That was the day I became a warrior. I tore them apart in combat, and relished in the feeling of being a born and bred killer. They never abused me again. They told me I should smile more. So, I bared my teeth instead."

River gave a low growl. "Those bastards should burn in Zanhara."

Kessara nodded into the darkness.

"They should."

They sat there in silence on the floor together for the rest of the night. At some point, Kessara fell asleep on River's shoulder.

She awoke the next morning tucked into her makeshift bed on her couch, and River was nowhere to be seen.


	46. Chapter 46

They had their meeting with Scarlette Snowrider and her gang of werewolves the next day. Kessara was impressed with Daemien, Sloane and Allesia's reaction to essentially being willingly kidnapped and dragged to the underground lair of a mafia leader. Allesia seemed more interested in Scarlette's hair and outfit than their actual conversation, which had Kessara's eyes rolling. Daemien, Alaric and Kessara discussed ways to keep tabs on what was happening in the castle without letting the queen or any of her followers know, while River and Sloane worked on coming up with a map of the Nox Palace where Avalon kept them. Scarlette, Warren and Tristen had no updates regarding the demons in the city, only that they'd found and killed three more demons, and that Kessara would probably be getting a bunch of unsolved murder files on her desk the next morning.

River didn't sleep well that night. Actually, she fell asleep with his head in her lap after she spent an hour stroking his hair once she managed to drag him out of a particularly bad night terror. It was because of the map, he'd mused the next day when they woke up, the memories it had dragged out of the darkness.

She was sitting at her tiny dining table, poring over said map, with River distantly eating a piece of toast across from her, when they heard a knock at the door. Four knocks, three soft, one hard. Their circle had expanded, but they couldn't be too careful. She and River shared a look before they rose silently from the table. River tipped his head back and drew all the darkness in the room to his hands, those beautiful blue eyes turning black as the void as he walked toward the door, opened it, and yanked whoever was in the hall into Kessara's chambers.

Long red-brown hair, eyes like amber, wearing characteristically fancy training clothes. Allesia. But it didn't stop River from holding a crackling black dagger to her throat. Allesia jumped backward, but River matched her, move for move.

"What was the career you always wanted to have?"

Allesia frowned. "A Commander. Look, I have some suspicions, so can you put that thing away? It's making me cold." She shivered for emphasis.

Okay, definitely Allesia.

River, thankfully, released his hold on the darkness, and the shadows in the room returned to their normal places.

"What's going on?" Kessara asked, motioning for her friend to come in. Allesia flounced through her sitting area, and made herself comfortable on River's usual couch.

Kessara's chest inexplicably tightened, especially when River plopped down next to Allesia with a warm smile.

"So, I know we have to be careful in these times of war," Allesia said carefully. A coded message. "But I'm curious about our...allies."

Kessara and River frowned at each other. Scarlette and her wolves? Kessara didn't trust the bitch anyways, so she leaned in to listen.

But Allesia didn't say anything. Instead, she held out her hands. It was faint, so faint, but the skin between the tips of her fingers was stained black. Black, from...

Allesia dropped her voice to a whisper so low, she had to strain to hear it. "Her hair."

Kessara's blood ran cold. That was why Allesia kept asking about Scarlette's hair at their meeting. That was why her hair was so dark it seemed to eat up the torchlight, whereas Tristen and River's dark hair shined. It was dyed black. Kessara instantly felt guilty for judging Allesia. She wasn't just some airhead fashionista, and actually made an important observation, something Kessara herself had overlooked.

"What does that mean?" River asked in an equally low voice.

What _did_ it mean? Was Scarlette an imposter? Or did she just like darker hair? It was impossible to know for sure.

Allesia shrugged. "That we should watch our backs."

River swallowed hard. "Yeah. We should."

They sat in silence for a few moments, before Allesia piped up with her usual energy.

"That wasn't the only reason I came to visit today."

Oh, dear Goddess. River smirked across the coffee table at her.

"You have got to have some clothes other than that uniform. So, Savannah and I are taking you shopping!"

Kessara shook her head hard. "I don't need more clothes-"

Allesia laughed. "You think we're taking 'no' for an answer? Come on, sweetie, lets go."

River blew her a kiss as Allesia half dragged her out of the room and into the streets of the Caelum City.

*************

They met with the wolves every Sunday, and every week it was more of the same. The demons were taking over more and more people, and as more and more people were thus disappearing as the wolves killed them, the city has grown restless. There were rumors of some new serial killer, and whenever Kessara would venture outside the castle walls she would be bombarded by tabloid writers asking about her involvement in the case. She had to lie through her teeth; she couldn't exactly tell them she was the one giving the order for their deaths, and she certainly couldn't tell them that their loved ones could be demons. But River had it far worse. As the infamous _Shadow_ assassin, Avalon's right-hand turned Commander for the queen, the tabloid interviewers never left him alone about it.

He was such a smooth, easy liar, but he was way too nice to those vultures. A few times Kessara had to step in with a firm "No more questions," and drag him away after she noticed the swarming people starting to close in on him.

But they were at least talking to him. The city never forgot about River's past...occupation. People crossed the street when they saw River walking towards them. Or ducked into the restaurants and shops closest to them. River never said anything, but by then end of their time in the city his jaw and shoulders would be so tense she had to order him to take a hot shower before he got knots in his muscles.

The weeks went by in a blur. The cool, rainy weather of spring turned hot and humid as summer rolled in, and Kessara was dragged down to the shops a few times by Allesia and Savannah to shop for summer clothes. Kessara rode as little as possible, still unable to bear the loss of her beloved horse, and spent most of her time in the library or the training room.

She was on her way to the training room now, hair pulled into a braid so tight she'd was afraid her scalp would tear out if she moved too fast. Gwyneth really knew how to make sure her head hurt for days afterward.

Over the weeks, she managed to gain back all the muscle she'd lost during her journey, and all the clothes that she'd had taken in, were thankfully taken back out.

She pushed open the door to the training room.

River on the other hand...

He'd bulked up more than she thought possible. Those bony shoulders she'd met him with had filled out to corded muscle that travelled down the length of his arms. His shirts had been taken out to as far as they could go, yet still fit so tight...

Her mouth went dry as she was greeted by him doing pullups on the bar as she opened the door. He was facing the opposite way, so he couldn't see her, but-

She cleared her throat. "You need to get some new clothes. That shirt is going to tear if you keep working out in it."

River dropped down from the bar and turned around; eyebrows raised.

"You're right," he said, grinning as she trained her eyes on his face. "Maybe Allesia can take me on one of your little shopping trips."

Kessara huffed a laugh. "She and Savannah have been conspiring to drag you out for a while. Allesia is personally offended by your fashion sense."

"Goddess help me." He wiped the sweat off the back of his neck. "You know, in _her_ castle, I wore the same thing every day. It was this black suit, not like a tuxedo type suit, but like a battle suit. It was horribly uncomfortable, and awful to take on and off. What you saw me wearing when you found me? I stole it off a manikin in a shop in some small town in Olania when the- when I escaped."

When the faerie queen finally let him go. But they couldn't say her name, not when the walls had eyes and ears here.

Kessara gave him a half smile before wandering over to the box of wraps. "You never told me that."

He shrugged. "Wasn't important."

Kessara idly wrapped her knuckles before tossing him a pair. "Spar with me."

River gave her a lopsided smile.

"Fine. But you're going to kick my ass."

"I know."

She did. Or at least she tried to. She managed to get her foot tangled in his and pulled, knocking him face-first into the ground. But she wasn't expecting for him to roll, and kick her in the back of the knee, pushing her legs out from under her. She recovered quickly, but he was already on his feet, and they were facing off again. He smirked at her from behind his raised hands. Good stance, protects his face. Not that she would actually hit him, but it was good practice.

"Reminds me of the ship-"

"Shut up."

She lunged for him again, this time going after his face with a jab and cross. He dodged both, and went low, fully tackling her to the ground. She got the air knocked out of her, and they rolled together on the mat, until she managed to stop, flat on top of him, her nose a hair's breadth away from his, with her hand wrapped around his throat.

"I don't know if that's an actual move," River grinned at her, "But it worked."

"It didn't work," she breathed, "I pinned you."

His gaze dropped. "Oh, but I think it did."

Kessara's eyebrows rose, but her heart started pounding. They still hadn't moved, but her grip on his neck loosened.

"You're impossible."

He laughed, but not a second later, that smug smile faltered. Kessara frowned. "What?"

"Get up, Kessara," he murmured. When she hesitated, he said it again. "Get up."

She did, scrambling to her feet, him not a second later. But those eyes were not on her, no, they were looking at somebody just behind her.

She whirled around to find a guard peering through the windows in the training room doors. Two of them. Three.

Expressionless, like guards should be, but these ones were lifeless. Like there was nothing in their heads.

River hissed from behind her. "Don't they answer to you?"

"To us," she corrected, "but they answer ultimately to the queen."

"Why are there guards stationed here?"

Kessara shook her head. "I don't know."

They needed to act natural; just two Commanders keeping their skills sharp. Not two Commanders trying to hide the fact that they were conspiring with a mafia leader to commit treason.

"Spar with me, Commander Lockwood," she said carefully, a plastered smile on her face.

"Yes, ma'am," River replied. He put his arms up to continue when the door opened.

She whirled around to find one of the seventeen royal viziers, a man in his late seventies with one of those manic grins twisting his aging features, standing abnormally straight in the doorway.

Kessara stiffened. The guards or one of the other commanders were usually sent on behalf of the queen. Viziers only came to the castle when called, so it was rare to see one wandering around the castle. A demon. He was a demon.

"Commander Blackrose, Commander Lockwood. The queen wants to see you."

Kessara forced herself to lift her chin. To clasp her hands behind her back so that creature smirking like a cat in front of her couldn't see them shaking. Demons. Demons in the castle...

"Thank you, sir. We will be there-"

"Now, Commander."

Her fingers curled into fists behind her. "Yes, sir."

The demon's sick smile widened. But it said nothing as it turned on its heel, the cobalt blue robe it must have stolen from the original vizier swishing behind him.

Kessara loosed a tight breath, and River was in front of her instantly, stooping down to peer into her face.

"Keep that chin up, Kess. Walk like you walk, and she won't know we know. Don't show fear." He offered a small smile. "Not that you ever show it anyway."

Kessara nodded. But she said nothing, not as she brushed past him toward the hallway.

He walked silently beside her, the only sound the clicking of her boots on the marble floors, as they neared the throne room.

With every step, her palms grew more and more sweaty, but she held her chin up.

_Don't show fear._

She nodded to dismiss the guards at the massive mahogany doors, reigning in the wince of horror at the lifelessness in their eyes. She kept her expression completely neutral, and avoided looking over to River at all costs.

_Don't show fear._

The queen was joined by all seventeen viziers, including the demon who'd retrieved them from the training room. Demons, all of them. The sulfuric smell, too faint for most to notice, confirmed it for her. But spending a year with that horrible scent shoved up her nose, mixed with the metallic tang of blood and urine and...well, it was unmistakeable.

She fought to keep her hands by her side, fought to keep herself from settling into that battlefield calm and blasting every one of them to smithereens.

_Don't show fear._

River knelt first, her shortly after.

"Rise, Commanders."

They did.

"You may be wondering why I called here at such an...odd time," the queen mused. Her fingers idly traced the arm of her throne, ice crystals forming and melting, over and over again beneath her hand. "I just wanted to check it, if you will. I have noticed you spending much time in the library. What are you researching?"

Kessara's heart pounded so loud she was sure the queen could feel it. But the best lies were mixed with the truth.

_Don't show fear._

"You sent me to find the _Shadow_ to give us a fighting chance against Empress Avalon, Your Majesty. We were researching the depth and magnitude of her power, as well as how to get into her castle to kill her."

"Hmm," the queen's white eyes seemed to bore straight through to her soul. _She can see, Kessara_ , that's what River had said to her after his initiation. "And have you found anything?"

"No, my queen."

The queen leaned forward in her throne. Kessara refused to take a step back, though every instinct told her to run, to fight, to do something to eliminate the threat.

"And where to you go, every Sunday?"

Shit. _Shit._ How could she have been so stupid, meeting with the wolves on the same day every week? She practically walked into this question. She knew, Goddess, she knew about them, their whole operation-and the way the queen was staring at her with those supposed unseeing eyes, Kessara could already feel the rope around her neck, the burning, the stinging...

"Shopping, Your Majesty," River spoke up from behind her. "Her Highness Princess Savannah as well as Lady Allesia seem to find my fashion sense abhorrent."

A sick smile twisted her features. "Ah yes, Commander Lockwood. The Crown Princess always had an affinity for the shops. Any favourites?"

Kessara nearly collapsed with relief at River's easy lie.

_Don't show fear._

"She seems to like the designer stores, Venus, Obelisk," River continued.

"I see. As for your mission to Arisia, I want you two on the road as soon as possible." Those white, unseeing eyes fixed on hers. "I want her dead, Commander. Not stopped, not imprisoned, _dead._ "

Kessara bowed again. "Yes, Your Majesty."


	47. Chapter 47

"She knows," Kessara spat as soon as the wolves ripped that wretched canvas sack off her head. "The queen, she asked us where we go every Sunday."

Scarlette raked her blood-tipped fingernails through her hair. Her black hair. To her left, Allesia locked eyes with her, giving her a slow nod. Dyed black hair.

"We should never have decided to meet on the same day every week," she said, rising from her throne. As usual, she was flanked on her right side by her beta, Tristan, along with a few other wolf bodyguards. "Come, we have much to discuss."

Kessara's stomach dropped to the floor. That didn't sound good. But nonetheless, she followed Scarlette through her maze of underground hallways and into their usual conference room, River, Alaric, Daemien, Allesia and Sloane hot on her heels.

They sat in their usual spots, River staring daggers at his twin so deeply, Kessara was half tempted to feel bad for him. She was fairly sure Alaric's presence at these meetings was the only thing keeping River from tearing his twin's throat out. She silently thanked the Goddess for the happiness-inducing properties of the _viribus_ bond. But when Savannah, sitting to Tristan's right, shot him a pitying look, her own sympathy turned to interest. Especially when Tristen gave her a tight smile in return. She raised her brows at her sister across the table, but Savannah pointedly ignored her.

Interesting.

But she turned her attention to Scarlette.

"The queen knows. She knows that we disappear from the castle every week, and then she asked us what we were researching in the library."

"What did you say?" Savannah asked. She'd gone very, very pale.

"I told her we were researching ways to kill Avalon, which we were, but I didn't say anything about the Thinning or the three realms. I don't know if she bought it, but she can see now. I'm sure of it."

"And what about where we go every week?"

"Shopping," River chimed in. "If your mother asks, you and Allesia drag us all out to the designer stores in the Caelum City every Sunday."

Savannah didn't smile. She just sat there, like a ghost.

Scarlette sprawled backward in her chair. But her expression was uncharacteristically grim. Usually, her expressions didn't change at all.

"This is bad news," she said finally.

Kessara huffed a laugh. "You think I don't know that? We have to be extra careful around the castle. We can't use the castle library to research anything but ways to kill Avalon, even though we already know I can kill her." River tensed up beside her, but she pushed on. "We also have to be seen in the shops on Sundays to back up our alibi."

Daemien spoke up. "I can take care of that. The meetings would have to be quick, since I can't hold that many illusions for very long, but I can make sure you're all seen in the shops."

"Perfect. As for researching the Thinning, we'll have to find another source of information. I've heard the libraries in Sirius are expansive, but I doubt we'll be able to disappear for a few days without a good reason."

Scarlette sucked in a breath.

"What," Kessara pressed when she remained silent, "what's changed."

Scarlette only tilted her head, a gesture that could only be described as predatory. She turned that dark gaze on her beta, however, and waited for him to speak.

"Our wolves sniffed something out in the outskirts of Polaris."

"What?" Kessara leaned forward in her chair. "What did you find?"

Tristen shrugged. "We don't know. Warren said it was strong, stronger than the demons' scent, and it smelled like the way the air smells before a thunder storm. Like there was an electric charge in the air."

"So, it was a trail?" Sloane asked. Kessara fought a double-take, but Tristen nodded. Sloane rarely spoke at these meetings. She was still wary of River, as he was of her, but she'd started to warm up to them all in the recent weeks.

"Where did it lead?"

"We didn't follow it; we wanted to run it by you first," Tristen replied. "The wolves said it seems to lead north-east."

"Toward Sirius," Kessara breathed. "That's the next move. We need to head to Sirius."

It made sense. She was planning on going there anyways, for information about the three realms and to study up on the Thinning without the queen knowing, and now that the wolves had picked up some strange scent trail that leads right there? It was their only lead.

"How do we know that this is even a viable lead?" Alaric asked. "How do we know this isn't just something completely separate from this whole mess?"

"We don't," River sprawled backward in his chair, "but it's all we got."

Alaric shook his head. "This just seems strange to me. The fact that we have to just take your word for it. How do we know this isn't a ploy, to get our most powerful sorcerers out of the way?"

Scarlette smiled. "I'm offended. After all this time we've spent working together, and you still don't trust me?"

Kessara pressed her lips together. Alaric was right. She'd gotten so caught up in the idea that she'd forgotten her mistrust of Scarlette and her pack.

Alaric said nothing, so Kessara spoke up.

"We need to go to Sirius anyway. We may as well follow the trail while we're there. But River and I can't go together."

"Absolutely not," River protested, but Kessara silenced him with a glare.

"I refuse to allow two of the three sanctus to be left in your hands, it doesn't matter that you haven't betrayed us yet, I won't take that chance."

She caught Alaric's eye across the table, and he nodded.

"Alaric and River should go together. They can use the opportunity to work on their _viribus_ bond," she declared. River's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't object.

Scarlette smiled. "Warren and I will go as well. I've always wanted to go to Sirius; I'd like to see what kind of gold can be made in such an... ancient little place."

Kessara's nostrils flared. She did _not_ like the idea of River and Alaric going alone with this psychopath. Had she'd known that Scarlette would volunteer to go with them, she would never have suggested...

"Perfect," Allesia chimed in, "And while you're there, the rest of us will keep training. Right, Kessara?"

Her friend locked eyes with her again.

"Right," Kessara said slowly.

Scarlette clapped her hands together. "Excellent. We leave in a week. We'll be gone for exactly five days." Scarlette shot Kessara a look. "If we are gone longer, Commander, I give you full permission to hunt us down."

Kessara snarled. "I don't take orders from you, nor do I need _your_ permission to do anything."

Especially when she knew that Scarlette might not be who she says she is.

"See, this is why I've always liked you." Scarlette flicked her hand, and tiny sparks of flame danced at her fingertips. "You've got a fire in you, just like me."

"I'm nothing like you."

"Then why are you here, Kessara?" Scarlette shot back. "What drives this desire to be the hero?"

"Scarlette," Tristen warned, but the mafia leader ignored him, those dark eyes, so similar to Savannah's yet so different, boring into her soul.

Kessara opened her mouth to spit venom back into this viper's face, but...nothing.

"It's my job."

Scarlette laughed, actually _laughed_ , and Kessara felt her fingernails gouge deep marks into the wooden table. How dare she laugh at a Commander of Cygnis?

"You swore an oath to your queen. Your job is to serve her, yet you are conspiring with me, a mere criminal, to assassinate her. Why?"

Kessara said nothing, her fingernails barking in pain.

"Demons kill people. I don't want anyone to get hurt," she said finally. And she meant it. She truly did.

Scarlette leaned backward in her chair once again. The entire room seemed to be holding its breath.

But this time, it was Kessara's turn to sit forward.

"You don't get the right to grill me on my motives, Scarlette. Not when you haven't been honest about yours. Why are _you_ helping us? Why would you put your life and reputation on the line to help your enemy?"

The other woman's face didn't change, but Savannah, sitting next to her, tightened her grip on the arms of her chair.

"I told you this the day we met, Commander. Your little bestie here offered me money."

Kessara studied her for a moment. The dyed hair, whatever Savannah was picking up with her empathy...it didn't add up. Money just wasn't a good enough reason to risk the lives of her and her wolves to kill the queen, and Avalon no less.

She said nothing about it, however. Not until she discussed with Savannah.

"We will see you next week."

Scarlette, nor her wolf bodyguards stopped her as she strode out of the room, River, Alaric, Savannah, Allesia, Daemien and Sloane hot on her heels.

**************

Savannah didn't say a word throughout the whole journey back, and Kessara was getting worried. The revelation about the queen had to have shaken her.

She told the others to go ahead, that she'd see them later, and then looped her arm through her friend's and pulled her toward the entrance to the path that lead up to their favourite lookout spot on the summit of the Divum mountain.

Her sister hesitated for a moment, but Kessara gave her a gentle tug and she conceded, falling into step beside her.

The hike was about an hour round trip, through the woods behind the Cobalt Castle and up the mountain. They used to make it hundreds of times when they were kids. Savannah to escape the castle and the dresses and the stuffy atmosphere, Kessara to escape the men she worked with, to escape their stripping stares and their violating comments.

They hiked up the path, boots squishing in the soft ground, breathing in the crisp air the trees provided, the silence filled by chirping birds.

Kessara glanced over at her friend. Savannah stared at the ground, those dark eyes cloudy, her lips drawn into a thin line.

"Savannah?"

She didn't look at her.

"Savannah, just because the queen knows, doesn't mean that this fight is over."

Her friend nodded absently. It wasn't like her, to be so silent. To refuse to meet her eyes, or smile, or speak.

Kessara went on, "All we have to do is stay oblivious, and she has no reason to come after us, okay?"

Savannah wordlessly tightened her grip on Kessara's arm, and she squeezed back. They continued their walk in silence, all the way up to the summit.

By the time they made it up there, Kessara's legs were burning, the mountain winds whipping her long braid out behind her. She shivered. Despite the summer heat, it was always a good ten degrees colder up here.

There was a fallen log, half rotted away, toward the edge of the cliff, and Kessara gently tugged Savannah toward it, sitting down hard and pulling her down with her.

The view was beautiful from here. The shimmer of the polished marble that made up the Caelum City below them lit up by the blindingly hot afternoon sun. In the distance, the glowing city of Cantasile was just a blip on the horizon, painted red barns stark against the backdrop of rolling plains of grass and farmland. The towering spires of the Cobalt Castle rose to just below the edge of the cliff, the castle itself partially carved into the Divum Mountain, a relic of the first queen of Cygnis, queen Reina.

They sat there together, gazing out at the landscape they'd enjoyed since they were children.

"We are going to win this war," Kessara said after a while.

But she couldn't help but wonder who she was trying to convince. So far, all the odds were stacked against them. They were fighting two queens who wielded the power of Diabolis, both of which having an infinite army of demons on their side. It was very likely they would end up in the middle of a two-front war, defending that spot in the Silva Forest for only the Goddess knew how long. She'd been wanting to send soldiers to search for the spot where the Thinning would occur, but Alaric reminded her that they didn't know who they could trust, and if one of them was captured, the location could be tortured out of them. It was better that they didn't know.

But when Savannah answered, Kessara realized the war was not what Savannah was worried about.

"Why?" Savannah whispered, "why would she do this?"

Kessara knew what she meant.

"I don't know Savannah. The only one who does is her. But her motive doesn't matter, what matters is that she made the deal, and we have to stop her."

"Kill her. She has to die."

Savannah took a shuddering breath, and scrubbed at her face.

"I don't want to be queen," she whispered.

Because if they did win this war, Queen Saphira had to die. And the next in line for the throne... Kessara's chest tightened to the point of pain, and she turned to look at her friend. Tears streamed down Savannah's cheeks, her golden hair sticking to the wet spots on her face.

"I know, Savannah. Goddess, I know you don't."

She reached up and brushed the hair out of her friend's face, wiping the tears from her eyes with her thumbs.

Savannah took a shaking breath. "I can't do it. I can't, I don't want that kind of responsibility, I won't be a good queen, Kessara, I'm not strong enough," her voice cracked, and she put her head in her hands.

Kessara put an arm around her shoulders, and Savannah leaned into the touch, shoulders shaking with the weight of her tears.

"I know you don't want to be queen. But don't you ever say that you wouldn't be a good queen. That is the farthest thing from the truth, and everyone in Cygnis would agree with me. We would be lucky to have someone like you as queen. And you think you aren't strong enough? Savannah, I've watched you grow so much in the past month. You took a stand, you joined the mafia in order to help your people, you are giving orders and sticking to your word. Not to mention you practically yelled at River to shut his mouth. Which was brilliant, by the way."

Savannah huffed a laugh through her tears.

"I still feel bad about that."

Kessara scoffed. "Don't. I'm pretty sure he was impressed too."

She put her fingers under Savannah's chin and gently lifted her face, forcing her to look at her.

"I know this is hard. War is never easy, and I wish to the Goddess that I could keep you out of it, but I can't. But you as queen would be the best thing that ever happened to Cygnis since Reina. You may not be queen in title, but you are queen in every way that counts."

Savannah smiled in response, and the knee-wobbling relief slammed into Kessara at the sight. She hadn't realized how much she missed that smile until it was gone. Savannah rested her head on Kessara's shoulder, wrapping an arm around her in a tight hug.

"What would I do without you?" she sniffled.

"You'll always have me."

She would, until Kessara left to kill the Dark Queen. Until she poured so much ethereal energy into the Avalon's body that the rejection killed them both. She deigned not to tell her friend that little fact.

"I love you, Kessara."

Kessara felt her own eyes burn, as much as she tried to fight it.

"I love you too, Savannah."


	48. Chapter 48

Kess was in the middle of unbraiding her hair at her vanity when a flare appeared in front of her. River's heart leapt into his throat as she yanked the slip of parchment out of the air, and he was instantly beside her, peering over her shoulder, furiously scanning the words for Zephyr's name.

They still hadn't been able to find any trace of him, their communication with the generals holding the fort at the Kraken Cove yielding nothing. And with every passing day, River's terror for his friend rose higher and higher.

His heart sank when he read the letter. It was from Charlie. Nothing about Zephyr.

Charlie was asking if Kess could come to River's next follow-up appointment tomorrow.

They had been trying to find a way to reduce the scarring on his back and face for weeks now. Most of it experimental; most people in Cygnis never had the opportunity to obtain the kind of scars he had, and so far, nothing had made a dent. He was starting to give up, resigning to the fact that his face was going to look like that forever.

Kess's brows furrowed.

"Follow-up appointment? For what?"

River blanched. _Shit,_ he hadn't told her. He scrambled for an answer, but every thought vanished from his head when she looked up at him with those eyes. Pine green, hard as ice, thick lashes coated in cosmetics, her chocolatey hair crimped and curly from her braid-

"River? Why are you going in for a follow-up appointment?" she asked again.

He chewed his lip. "There's nothing wrong, I swear. Its just, Charlie's looking for a way to fade the scars on my face and back."

Kess stood, brows somehow furrowing even more. Even standing, she was still a head shorter than him.

"Why?"

It was River's turn to be shocked. He gestured to his face, the thick white scar that ran from his hairline to his jaw, slicing straight through his left eye.

"I think its fairly obvious, Kess."

Kess shook her head. "I already told you, I think it looks badass. You don't look any less pretty with the scar."

River laughed. "You haven't seen the rest of them."

He watched her throat bob. Right, a little too soon to make jokes about his back. Especially after she'd nearly watched him die because of it.

But to his relief, she smiled.

"I still haven't yelled at you for that, by the way."

He decided to play dumb.

"For what?"

Kess gave him a long look. "You know exactly for what."

He shrugged. "Worth a shot."

She turned those pretty pine eyes back to the mirror, finger combing through her chocolate waves.

His own fingers twitched, as if imagining how those waves would feel between them.

 _No_. Off limits. Never going to happen. Though he couldn't help but feel just a _little_ satisfied at her worry over him.

"Besides," Kess continued, snapping him back to the present, "Charlie wants me there, so I'm going. And you can explain more about this scar-removal business while we're there."

He grinned down at her. "Counting on it."

She just rolled her eyes.

River patted her shoulder, before brushing past her chair and heading for the door.

"I'm going to change," he called over his shoulder. "Don't miss me too much."

"I won't," she yelled back. He couldn't help but smile to himself as he walked out the door.

He headed straight to his closet, peeling off his dark suit as he went. He was eternally grateful to Gwyneth, who picked most of his clothes for him. He had no idea what went with what and which tie with which colour and which blazer with those shoes...

He avoided looking in the long mirror in his bedroom as he walked past. Hated his ruined face, his marked body.

Kess didn't seem to think his face was ruined at all. But like he'd just said, she hadn't seen the rest of them. Hell, he avoided looking at them at all costs himself. He tried not to think about her reaction when she inevitably saw them at the Sana Collegium tomorrow.

River quickly changed into a pair of grey sweats and a t-shirt, before striding back into hallway to knock on Kess's door. Four knocks, their code. And though he was expecting it, it didn't stop his heart from jumping into his throat when she opened the door, yanked him inside, and slammed him against the door with her fingers wrapped around his neck.

"How many vampires did you kill in the Fascinare forest?" she snarled into his face, eyes glowing blue as she channeled that ethereal energy through her body.

"Three. But you chose that question on purpose."

She grinned, releasing him, the blue light from her eyes winking out.

"Of course I did," she said, turning around and aiming for her couch. "I was half dead from exhaustion and still managed to kick more ass than you."

"Goddess, you're never going to let that drop, are you?" he followed her, taking up his usual spot on the opposite couch.

"Never." She frowned. "We need to talk about Sirius."

Right. His expedition to the ancient country just a days journey north of Polaris. With Alaric, and the most feared mafia leader in Orbis. Kess had volunteered them, and he couldn't blame her, but he hated the idea of leaving her alone in this demon-infested castle for five days. She had the others, and she was powerful and talented and Goddess, he knew she could take care of herself but, he still worried.

Kess stood suddenly, and came over to sit next to him.

Instantly, he was blindsided by the wall of her scent; rose, lingering from her bath this morning. It had been distracting him all day, and this was _so_ not helping. She sat so close the ends of her hair ticked his bare arm, knee to knee with him.

He forced himself to loosen his jaw, to let himself relax against the back of the couch.

"Scarlette is dangerous, River. She's a psychopath, and all she cares about is money, so you need to watch your back. Watch Alaric's too. Don't let her walk behind you, always enter a room last, _always_ keep your back to the door-"

He sat and listened to her fussing, already knowing everything she was saying, sure that Alaric knew too. But he couldn't interrupt her, not when he was so thoroughly enjoying that little crease between her brows that appeared as she talked.

"-and if you learn _anything,_ don't let her know."

He threw her a half smile. "Got it. Don't let her kill me."

She elbowed him, hard enough that he winced. "I'm serious. Do you know how werewolves choose alphas?"

No. He didn't. But he was certainly curious.

"Mortal combat. Someone has to kill the existing alpha, and then they take over the position. Usually, challengers end up brutally murdered, but Scarlette? She killed _four_ alphas when she was just a teenager, as a sorcerer, yes, but her magic was bound in iron."

River blinked. He knew she was dangerous, but he never knew the stories of the wolf packs in Polaris. Never had to deal with any of them. _She_ probably didn't see them as a threat, so she never sent him after them. At least, not that he could remember.

She noticed his expression.

"Exactly. I have no doubt that she'll stab you in the back for quick coin."

River wasn't so sure about that. Kess had said it herself; Scarlette's desire for money didn't seem like a big enough motivation for her to risk the lives of herself and her packs in order to help Savannah's cause. There was a reason she wanted to go to Sirius with them. and it may be about the gold, but there was something else too.

"I must say, I like fussy-you. It's cute."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. If you die, I will kill you."

He grinned at her again. "Oh, I'm counting on it.

*************

The heavy heels of Kessara's boots echoed off the walls as she followed Charlie through the beautiful halls of the Sana Collegium. River walked stride for stride with her, every muscle in his body so tense he was practically twitching. She got the impression he didn't like doctors too much.

Charlie was chatting with them the whole way. Apparently scar-removal was part of his thesis. If he could successfully remove the scarring and submitted his research, the heads at the Sana Collegium would admit him into their graduate program.

"And what happens after that?" she asked. He turned around and beamed at her.

"Lots of things. I could become a professor here, I could run my own practice, but what I really wanted to do was lead a battlefield medical team."

Kessara smiled. Of course, he did.

"Well, good luck."

He led them toward the rooms they stayed in when they first arrived, but took a left at the intersection instead, striding toward a smaller hallway with offices on either side. He held the door to one of them open for her and River to walk in.

The inside of the room was far larger than she expected. Pristine white tile covered the walls, matching tiles on the floor. In the far end of the room stood a bed. Well, it was more like a cot, with a long strip of paper covering it. Covering the right wall were huge mirrors that stretched from floor to ceiling.

She frowned when she noticed River look away from that particular wall.

A large desk, covered entirely by scraps of paper, open files and vials full of strange liquids of all colours, sat at the base of the bed. Charlie immediately aimed for the desk, quickly tidying up the space and grabbing a page from on of the open files. Her frown deepened when River went straight for the bed like he'd done it a thousand times before. Had he?

Kessara took up an awkward stance against the wall, her back to the door. Instinct now, from thousands of hours of training.

Charlie jerked his chin toward River.

"You know what to do."

River, unnervingly quiet, refused to meet her eyes as he shed his waistcoat. She didn't understand why he wore a waistcoat in the middle of August, but alas, Gwyneth probably forced him to. His fingers hesitated as they reached the buttons on his dress shirt, however. Charlie didn't seem to notice, absorbed with scrawling something in his notes.

Kessara put her back to him, to give him some privacy, the soft rustle of fabric the only clue that he'd removed his shirt as well.

She didn't care, honestly. She'd already seen his back while it was all mottled, shredded flesh, oozing and damp with sweat and infection...

She shivered at the memory. Tried to shove it out of her mind.

Why Charlie wanted her here, she had no idea. She'd assumed he had some information for her, but she didn't expect to be a bystander in this appointment.

Just then, Charlie stood, snapping some rubber gloves onto his hands and striding over to where River sat.

River took a heavy breath and turned around, putting his back to her and Charlie. All over his back were white bandages, taped down on all sides.

Her first thought was how many there were. Too many. If those were all scars under there...It made her blood boil, what that bitch Avalon did to him all those years. She would make her pay for it.

Charlie reached up with his gloved hands and peeled off the first bandage. Then the second. Then the third. And with each strip of white cloth he removed, Kessara's chest tightened, and tightened, and tightened, until the last one came off, and she couldn't breathe at all.

"It didn't work," Charlie said. It was pure analysis. He didn't even seem disappointed.

No, it didn't.

Scars on top of scars, layers upon layers of them. River's skin was torn to shreds the last time she'd seen his back. Now, red, mottled flesh remained in its place, healed, yes, but...

_Dear Goddess._

She didn't realize she said the words out loud until River gave a bitter laugh.

"Still think it looks badass?"

She didn't know what to do with her body, what to say, couldn't think around his back, the way he hunched in on himself, avoiding the mirrors like he hated looking at himself-

"Do they hurt?" Kessara whispered. River shook his head, thank the Goddess.

She took an involuntary step closer, acutely aware of Charlie stepping away. She barely registered how much he'd filled out since the last time she'd had to tear the back of his shirt open. He'd only been skin and bone then, the infection eating away at his very life force, but the jagged bone had been replaced by thick, corded muscle, his skin darker from time spent outside whatever cell Avalon kept him in. But those scars, she couldn't think past those red slashes that covered his back. All her focus narrowed to those marks; whip marks, and as if in reflex, she reached down, and ran her fingers down his spine.

He jerked at the contact, whipping his head around to stare at her over his shoulder, but didn't move as her fingertips dipped and rose over the raised scars over his shoulders, down the center of his back...

She should have known, shouldn't have been so surprised by what lay beneath those bandages. Of course those wounds she saw would scar.

Her eyes burned; rage, sorrow, she didn't know.

"You're still beautiful," she said, voice thick, as her fingers reached the base of his spine. "These just show you survived."

Kessara meant it. Even that first day she saw him, she thought he was one of the most beautiful people she'd ever met, objectively of course, scar and all.

River didn't say anything for a long time. Just kept staring at her, eyes red, looking at her with such raw openness she felt tears slip down her own cheeks.

She didn't say anything, and neither did he. It was unnecessary; that look on his face saying everything for him.

 _Thank you_ , it said.

She hated her. She hated that demonic _bitch_ so much for doing this to him. For breaking him so badly that he couldn't even look at himself in the mirror. She never knew, never noticed how much he hated his face until now. Was that why he wore a handkerchief over his face before they met? Why he always referred to his face as "messed up" or "ruined"?

After a few long moments, Charlie spoke up softly.

"Let's wait a few weeks to try my next idea."

River nodded, tearing his eyes away from hers to look at Charlie.

"Thank you," was all he said.

Charlie smiled back. "I should be thanking _you_. Besides, she's right. You don't look any less pretty with the scars."

Kessara sighed as River's soft smile turned wicked. Moment, over. She knew some stupid comment was coming-

"Are you flirting with me, Dr. Lawrence?"

Yup, there it was. But the joke didn't meet his eyes. No, disappointment and shame still shone in them.

Charlie laughed, tossing River's shirt at him. "And on _that_ note, I'll meet you two in the library."

And a moment later, the healer had left them alone, and Kessara had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly what he was doing.

River stood up, the bed groaning, and pulled on his dress shirt, fumbling the buttons with his shaking fingers.

Kessara didn't think twice before reaching up to his collar and buttoning it for him, surprised to find her own hands trembling. She could feel his icy eyes scanning her face the whole time, and she kept her own gaze firmly on the buttons of his shirt, trying not to think about the heat of his body warming her fingers. Or how close they stood.

She was just buttoning his shirt. She couldn't exactly do that from ten feet away, could she?

"You shouldn't be ashamed of them," she said. "Nothing she ever did to you was your fault."

"Why would you think I'm ashamed?" he asked quietly.

"It's written all over your face."

She didn't look at him. Why, she didn't know. But he said nothing.

But when she finished buttoning his shirt, she forced herself to lift her chin, and peer into his face. He was already watching her, his eyes still red, just looking at her like _that-_

Before she knew what she was doing, she'd already wrapped her arms around his neck, crushing him into a tight embrace.

River immediately relaxed into her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face into her shoulder. Kessara felt his chest rise as he took a deep breath, and she squeezed tighter. She marveled at the contrast from the last time she'd hugged him, aboard Charlie's boat in the Dead Zone. Then, his jagged shoulder blades bruised her forearms. Now, those sharp bones were covered with a layer of muscle. They stayed like that for a few moments, before River spoke.

"You smell good," he murmured into her hair. Kessara snorted, and shoved him away.

"You know, I'd never been hugged before that day on the boat," he said, reaching for his discarded waistcoat.

Kessara froze. "Never?"

He shrugged. "I was never allowed out of my cell except for missions. My parents pretended I didn't exist, and Falcon−Tristen, spent more time with them than with me. I never really had the opportunity to make friends. Besides Zephyr, but we were too busy trying to survive."

Kessara absently reached forward again to do up the buttons on his waistcoat.

"But didn't you...seduce" she choked on the word, "people into giving you intel before Avalon gave you your scar?"

River knit his brows.

"Oh, no," he chuckled, understanding what she was getting at, " _those_ times were purely manipulation. And even then, I just tried to get it over with as soon as possible."

Kessara didn't know why she felt relieved. But she took a pointed step backward, then another.

"Well, Savannah's philosophy is that everyone needs hugs," she said. River laughed. "And I'm your friend, so you can hug me whenever you want."

His smile made her chest tighten.

"Thanks, Kess."

She nodded. "I think we're late to the library."

********************

The Sana Collegium library put even the castle's to shame. It was massive, bookshelves stretching high above their heads, stocked full of leather-bound volumes, their titles inscribed in gold lettering down their spines. The roof was made of glass, an enormous dome that allowed the blistering sunlight to light up the entire room. Unlike the castle, no hearths lined the walls, but in the center stood rows of desks and chairs, ink and quills already placed in their corners; as well as huge, overstuffed couches and armchairs situated in a circle. Charlie was already sitting in one of those armchairs, and he waved her and River over.

"It's safe in here," Charlie said as Kessara sat down next to River on one of the couches, "Kenna checked every corner."

Kessara blinked. Marshal Woodhunter was here? She could feel River's eyes on her, looking for an explanation.

But just as she was about to explain who Woodhunter was, a large owl swooped down from the rafters, silver feathered wings morphing into arms, huge dark eyes shifting into human ones.

Right, she forgot she was a shape-shifter.

Woodhunter wore a black suit with a silver zipper down the front. No cobalt blue cape, though Kessara couldn't blame her for rejecting the queen's colour. No weapons either. As if noting her gaze, Woodhunter said,

"I prefer to fight with claws and teeth."

Kessara smiled. "Of course."

River extended a hand to her. "I don't think we've met. I'm River Lockwood."

"Yes, our newest Commander," Woodhunter said, taking his hand. Kessara reined in a snort at River's face. The Marshal had a good grip, it seemed. "Kenna Woodhunter, Marshal of the Givedra stationhouse."

"Kenna and I have been in contact recently, just trying to find out some more information about the legends," Charlie explained. "Shifters and healers are among the oldest forms of sorcery in Orbis. And we think we found something."

He motioned for Woodhunter to join their circle, and she sprawled out on the couch across from them.

Kessara stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. But Charlie just opened up a thick, ancient-looking volume, gingerly flipping through the yellow pages until he landed on whatever page he was looking for.

"I was looking for some books on the history of healing and the Sana Collegium for one of my exams, and I found this book. When I saw this article, I immediately sent a flare to Kenna."

He flipped the book around so they could read it.

She skimmed the page, picking up bits and pieces. Shifters were the very first sorcerers. They came from the breeding of demons and angels eons ago, and the gene was passed through generations. Same with healers. All sorcerers came from the breeding of healers and shifters with each other and other angels and demons that fell through the portal. But besides the shifting and healing gene, all other powers were random.

Charlie flipped the page.

"Then I found this," he said, pointing to the image that took up the majority of the page.

River sucked in a breath next to her.

Four people, standing side by side, hands clasped tightly together in what seemed like a forest. The Silva Forest. It was in colour, looked to be hand-painted. But that wasn't what made her blood run cold in her veins.

" _Dear Goddess,_ "she breathed.

The leftmost person, a woman with mousy brown hair, had eyes that were painted red, red brushstrokes looking like energy crackling around her palms. The man next to her had eyes as dark as the void, a inky pool of darkness spreading around his feet. Beside him was another man, eyes glowing blue, matching blue energy wreathing his wrists. And the last one, another woman, her eyes were normal. Human. But at her feet, breaking up through the ground were massive vines, and what looked like tree roots.

"Are these sanctus?" she asked, barely a whisper.

Woodhunter nodded. "The first group of sanctus, eons ago."

Charlie flipped the page. Again, an image of four people in the Silva Forest, different this time but with the same powers depicted. Again, the next page, same place with new people and old powers.

"Every seventy-seven years, the veil between worlds thins where Diabolis crashed through the Silva Forest," Woodhunter said, "But every _seven thousand_ years, a group of four sanctus appears. One who controls Zanharian demon energy−"

"Zephyr," River grimaced.

She nodded. "One who controls Ethereal angelic energy,"

That was her.

"One who controls pure darkness, the energy of Limbo. Your power, Commander Lockwood. And one who controls the energy of Orbis. The earth."

"There's a fourth sanctus?" Kessara asked.

Charlie nodded. "The Sanctus harness the power of the realms. But there aren't three realms, there's four."

"I don't think Avalon or the queen knows that," River mused. "She was just hunting for me, you, and Zephyr."

Good. The fact that all of the depictions of the sanctus were in the Silva forest just confirmed her theory. That the sanctus were needed to open the portal. If Avalon didn't know about the fourth sanctus, she wouldn't be able to open the portal. It would buy them enough time to kill her before she figured it out.

"The portal can only be opened when the existence of the four sanctus and the Thinning happens simultaneously," Woodhunter explained. "Which, just our luck, is probably this year, considering Diabolis chose this century to manipulate both queens into aiding his cause."

"Does it say anything about when the last Thinning was?" Kessara grabbed the book, skimming through the other pages. "I need to know to the day."

Charlie shook his head. "I already looked. The only way is to track down one of the beings that fell through the portal the last time."

Kessara swore under her breath. How she was going to do that, she had no idea.

"Commanders, what does your power feel like?" Charlie asked suddenly. "Where do you feel it comes from when you use it?"

Kessara thought for a moment. "A thread. It feels like a thread tied between me and the heavens. And the more I concentrate, the wider the thread becomes and the more energy I can call down."

"It feels like a web for me," River chimed in, "like the darkness comes from all around me, and I can draw it into me and shape it into whatever I want."

"So, it doesn't come from inside you."

They both shook their heads.

Charlie frowned, rubbing his jaw. "Interesting."

"What?" Kessara demanded.

He shook his head. "I don't know yet."

Kessara's heart skittered. What was he thinking? Was there something wrong with them? But she forced herself to take a breath. No, if he found something, he would let her know. Stress clouded judgement, and right now, poor judgement would get her and everyone she cared about killed.

"We can't let anyone beyond this room find out," Kessara said. "Keep that book here, in an inconspicuous spot. Don't keep it on you, and tell _no one_ of what you found. If anyone asks, tell them you were looking for information for your thesis. If you're found with that book on you by one of Avalon or the queen's demons, you will die."

Charlie nodded. "I'll put it inside another book."

"I'll get Alaric to come here tomorrow to teach you how to shield your mind against telepaths."

Charlie paled at that.

"It's only a precaution, in case you get captured," she amended.

He only paled further.

"Wipe your fingerprints off the cover too," Kenna jumped in. "The pages are old enough that they'll tear if someone tries to lift a print off it, but leather covers are easy."

Kessara regarded the other woman. Kenna did not shift her gaze, did not dip her head. It was that cool confidence she'd admired from the start, the refusal to bow to anyone.

"I made the right choice in promoting you. You would make a great Commander," she said. She meant it too.

Kenna gave her a half smile. "I'll think about it." But then she frowned. "Have you made any headway in the search for Marshal Rockshade?"

Kessara could feel River's flinch next to her.

"No." As much as she hated to say the words aloud, it was the only explanation. "I think-I think he's been captured. Either by Avalon or the queen."

She gently wrapped her fingers around his wrist and squeezed, a silent reminder to relax his jaw, which she knew without needing to look was clenched tightly. The breath that blew past her ear told her he listened.

Kenna's watchful eyes didn't miss the gesture. "I only met Zephyr once during training. I didn't know him, but I knew some of his men. He's a good Marshal, and I have no doubt he's a survivor. We'll find him."

River nodded.

"We should go," Kessara said softly. She nodded to Kenna and Charlie as she stood. "I will keep in touch with you both. Keep us updated with anything you find."

Kenna shifted back into a silver owl, flying away out the window in the library.


	49. Chapter 49

River checked his twin gold daggers were securely strapped into his belt for the fifth time today. He couldn't be too careful, not when he was about to spend the next five days with crime boss Scarlette Snowrider.

He'd already informed the queen of his departure to Sirius with Alaric, claiming that the ancient country may hold intelligence that could be helpful in finding a way to kill Avalon.

"I'm pretty sure it's not going to walk away," Alaric chuckled, jerking his chin to where River had a death grip on the hilt of the sword at his side.

He forced himself to relax his grip. Fine, he was fine.

He was in Alaric's rooms, last-minute packing for their journey. Paria, the capital of Sirius, was only a day's ride, but after nearly starving to death on his last journey with Kess, he wasn't taking any chances.

River glanced at the door. They would be leaving for the eastern part of the Caelum City, the wolves' domain, in a few minutes.

"She'll come, River," Alaric said, a tad gently.

River growled. "Stay out of it, Pyroak."

Most people would have run if he'd snarled at them like he just did Alaric. But his _viribus_ just rolled his eyes. River instantly felt bad. It wasn't Alaric's fault he was so on edge. Hell, even _he_ didn't know why he couldn't stop fidgeting.

Fine. He was fine. And so was she, right?

After that moment they'd had in the Sana Collegium, he was just so _awkward_ around her. He couldn't think straight, couldn't get the words out of his mouth when she just kept looking at him like that... The frustration was making him irritable. She was his _friend_ , nothing else. He didn't want anything else.

Just as he was about to apologize to Alaric, four knocks sounded at the door. Their code. River called the darkness around him, shaping it into a longsword and aiming it at the door.

It was Savannah. And next to her-

"How did you two meet?" Alaric asked, stepping aside so River could have a better aim at the potential imposters.

Kess answered. "Savannah saw me through the castle gates."

River lowered his sword.

"Hey Kess."

She threw him a half smile. "Hey, River."

She was clad in her casual uniform, her cobalt blue cape pinned over her left shoulder with her silver Commander pin swishing against the heels of her boots as she wandered into Alaric's rooms. She'd plaited her hair today, he noted absently. She had probably just finished teaching a class.

Alaric sketched a blond brow, a smirk tugging at his lips. He flicked his eyes between River and Kess.

River had half a mind to smack that look right off his stupid face. He settled for a low hiss instead, and his _viribus_ suddenly found the straps of his holster incredibly interesting.

Savannah too, immediately absorbing Alaric in a quiet conversation about something River didn't care enough to listen to. Instead, he followed Kess to his dining table; one he'd never used since he'd arrived in the castle, that was covered in weapons of various sorts.

"Miss me already? I saw you at breakfast-"

'You were waiting for me, weren't you?"

He blinked. "What?"

She cocked her head. "You're both all packed and ready to leave, and you're obviously not taking this," she prodded a particularly obnoxious-looking crossbow that sat un-cocked on the table, among all the other rejected weapons. "You could have left at any time. But you didn't." she smirked. "I think _you_ missed _me_."

He blinked again, scrambling for an answer.

"Fine. Can you blame me for wanting to make sure you're still alive before I left for a week? Castle's not safe, you know."

Kess's expression hardened. "Five days. You get five days before I'm hunting you down."

Right. Because Scarlette couldn't be trusted.

"Got it. Five days."

Kessara frowned. That was her _I'm thinking really hard_ face.

"Don't be obvious about the fact we don't trust her. Get her to trust you, make her let her guard down. She might reveal more about her motives. But be-"

"Careful," River finished. "I know. If I didn't know better, I'd say you're fussing."

Savannah snorted from across the room. "You should be fussing over her. She's the one staying in this demon infested hellhole while you get to prance off to Sirius with your boyfriend."

Alaric coughed loudly, but Kess laughed, and River wrapped a casual arm around her shoulders, unable to stop from grinning at that laugh.

She didn't pull away, and it was enough to set his heart pounding.

She was his _friend._

"Eavesdropping, are we, Princess?"

Savannah laughed, bright and sunny. He could see how the Cygnis people could easily fall in love with the princess. "Empath, remember? It's hard not to."

River blanched. Oh, right. He had a horrible urge to remove his arm from Kess's shoulders as Savannah's focus narrowed to where they touched.

It meant nothing, Savannah would feel nothing, because Kess was his _friend_ and nothing more.

 _I'm your friend,_ she'd said, _You can hug me whenever you want._

"We should go," Alaric said with a knowing look at River, and hoisted a bag over his shoulder.

 _Thank the Goddess_.

River made to pick up the other one, but...paused.

And without even thinking, he pressed a kiss to Kess's temple.

Her skin was- no. Not going to go there, not even going to think about what her skin felt like...

She stiffened under his arm, but she didn't look at him with disgust or anger when he pulled away. No, she just looked incredulous.

"See you in five days," he choked out with a forced grin.

"Don't die before then," was all she said back.

He picked up his bag, and followed Alaric out the door. When he turned back to shut the door, he saw Kess gingerly reach up and touch her temple.

He shut the door, indulging in all of one smile, before he jogged down the hall to catch up to his _viribus,_ who hadn't bothered to wait for him.

Alaric chuckled as River pulled up beside him.

"What was that about?"

River rolled his eyes.

"She's my friend."

"You kiss all your friends like that? I feel left out."

"Shut it, Pyroak."

**********

"What was that about?" Savannah smirked unabashedly at her as Kessara lowered her fingers from her temple. From where the shape of his lips felt like a brand on her skin.

"He's my friend."

"You let all your friends kiss you like that? You go stiff as a board when I merely pat you on the shoulder."

Kessara rolled her eyes.

"Don't we have dinner to get to?"

Savannah looped an arm through hers. "Good try, _Kess_."

Kessara couldn't stop her cringe at River's nickname for her on Savannah's lips. It just felt so strange.

Savannah noted the reaction, and laughed.

"Come on, we're meeting the other Commanders."

Kessara let her sister pull her out of Alaric's quarters.

"The other Commanders?"

Savannah pressed her lips into a tight line. "I know we're in a war, but if this comes to a battle, the other four Commanders are the top sorcerers and warriors in Orbis. We need to sway them to our cause."

Kessara smiled at her friend. The leader blossoming in her.

"Floyd, Theodore and Atlas will be easy enough," she mused quietly. They were wandering through the castle halls; only the Goddess knew who was listening. Floyd was far too compassionate to side with his sworn duties over saving the people, Theodore was a follower, but he too would never side with the queen over Savannah, and Atlas was a stickler to tradition, but he wouldn't see demonic influence as traditional at all. Asher Everette, on the other hand...

Savannah's face twisted into a snarl. "Asher Everette."

Asher Everette. He would be the wild card. He was notoriously difficult to work with, unlikeable, and frankly one of her least favorite people to be around. River had a lot to say about him when she'd introduced him to the other Commanders. Especially since Everette had spent most of the meeting grilling him about his past, why he deserved to become a Commander, if he was a spy sent by Avalon to infiltrate the castle.

That one personally offended Kessara. As if he'd thought her inadequate at her job of defending Cygnis. As if he thought her judgement of character was flawed.

River looked like he wanted to rip his throat out by the end of it. But thankfully for the cleaners, who would have had to spend hours scrubbing the blood out of the white marble, he decided to settle with a few backhanded insults to Everette's own...adequacy.

Kessara snorted at the memory. One look to Savannah's face told her she was remembering the same thing.

They made it to the dining hall, which was packed full of guards, healers, and servants alike. Dinner was always the busiest, but there, sitting in their usual corner table were the other four Commanders.

"Dammit," Kessara sighed. "We can't talk to them here. Any one of these people-"

"Could be demons," Savannah finished. "You're right."

A servant brushed past her shoulder with a mumbled apology and scurried down the stairs.

Kessara lowered her voice. "We can't talk about this here. After dinner, meet in the Shantytown graveyard. Do you have your weapons?"

Savannah angled her arm, showing her a quick glimpse of a silver dagger with a sapphire the size of Kessara's silver Commander pin set into the hilt, slid into a stitched leather sheath under her sleeve.

Strange. She'd never seen a knife like that in the castle before. Looked expensive too, probably hand crafted with a custom hilt.

She lifted an eyebrow.

"Where'd you get that?"

Her friend blushed, actually _blushed_ , and yanked her sleeve back down.

"It was a gift."

Kessara's brows rose even higher. "A gift from who, exactly?"

"It's not important. Oh look, Floyd is waving to us. Let's go." Savannah grabbed Kessara's arm again and half dragged her down the stairs.

Interesting.

Kessara's throat closed up as soon as she set foot in the busy dining hall. Ever since she'd returned to the Castle with River, they'd spend so much time researching, training or having secret meetings, they would just end up eating together in Kessara's rooms late at night. And now that she knew that some, if not all of the people sitting her could be demons in disguise? It felt like she was on the front lines all over again.

It was instinct to reach for her dagger.

But Savannah's fingers wrapped around her wrist.

"Easy," she murmured. "Don't let them know we know."

Kessara took a breath. Then another. Fine, she was fine.

Savannah pulled her over to the Commander's table, sitting down between Floyd and Theodore. Good decision. Safest choice if they were the real Floyd and Theodore, and not some demon clone. Kessara herself took up a seat across from her Princess, between Atlas and Asher Everette. Not the safest, but better her than Savannah.

Floyd greeted her enthusiastically enough that she was almost sure he wasn't a demon. Theodore gave her a smile, not much to go on, but it seemed human enough. Atlas gave her a tight nod, but he showed little in the terms of emotion at the best of times. She deigned to keep an eye on him. And Everette...

"So, where's Lockwood and Pyroak?" he asked, that stupid smug look on his face. She wished she could claw it off.

But he was asking about a mission. That was a bad sign.

"Sirius," she replied. The best lies were always mixed with truth, she found. "They've gotten a lead on the origins of Avalon's powers."

Everette frowned.

"And you didn't go with him? I thought you and Lockwood had a 'connection'."

Kessara snarled at the accusation. The mocking in his voice.

"I don't appreciate being interrogated about my fellow Commanders, Everette." She spat the words with enough venom that Everette leaned away from her in his chair. Good. Let the vermin be afraid.

Thankfully, Floyd picked up conversation with Savannah about Teddy (the Commander still absolutely adored their shared dog).

Kessara spent the majority of their meal silently plotting a way to get all four of the Commanders alone and out of earshot in the castle. But just as they were finishing, her genius friend piped up.

"When was the last time we all went out together? Lets do something tonight!"

Get them out of the castle without be too conspicuous. Once they were out, they could lead them to shantytown, where no doubt some of Warren's wolves still stood guard.

Floyd and Theodore grinned, but Savannah avoided Kessara's eyes. Good. Don't let them know they knew.

"We should go to the city square," Theodore suggested. "I think they have some musicians come in on Sunday nights."

Perfect.

"Sounds great," Kessara said aloud. "Let's meet outside the castle in thirty."

She and Savannah were ready in ten. Savannah had nearly bit her head off when Kessara announced she would be wearing her uniform

 _We're going out,_ she'd said. _Wear something sexy!_

She'd compromised with a knee-length, silver dress with long sleeves. At least she could hide her weapons well enough.

Savannah had gone with metallic green, a long flowing dress that reached the floor behind her, showing off brown heels that wrapped around her calves like branches.

They'd spent the extra twenty minutes plotting how they were going to kidnap four of the top warriors and sorcerers in Orbis.

They would go watch this performance, and then Savannah would suggest they go for a walk around the city. They would take the opportunity to inconspicuously grill the Commanders to make sure they weren't demon clones, and then lead them to the Shantytown graveyard. Kessara was counting on the fact that Warren's wolves would still be patrolling the city, should they need backup.

The summer night breeze was warm against Kessara's face as she and Savannah waved to the other Commanders, who had just wandered out the castle gates.

Floyd and Theodore greeted them with smiles, Atlas dropping into a shallow bow, one that Savannah chided him for and Kessara waved off.

Asher just nodded, snapping that the music at the White Stallion would probably be over by the time they got there.

Kessara resisted the urge to stab him in the throat with her gold dagger that she'd shoved up her sleeve. But she reminded herself that she needed him on their side, as much as she hated working with him. Everette was inaugurated at just nineteen years old, an aerokinetic: air manipulation. He could suffocate entire armies, ripping the air from their lungs. If only the demons needed to breathe.

She settled for a tight smile instead. The six of them made idle small talk on the way to the city square. The performance was pleasant, two violinists playing a whimsical tune in the center of the square. The crowd immediately parted when they noticed five of the seven Commanders and the Crown Princess enter.

Much to Kessara's relief, the Commanders enthusiastically agreed when Savannah suggested they take a walk around the city. She caught her sister's eye and nodded. Everything was going according to plan.

Now, to make sure they were really them, and not demon imposters. Kessara racked her brain for questions only they would know but...nothing. She realized she knew absolutely nothing about her fellow Commanders.

She looked to Savannah, who was laughing and talking with Theodore up ahead. Her friend looked over her shoulder and nodded.

Real. The Theodore walking with them was real.

Her friend jerked her chin toward Floyd, who was stooping to pet every dog or horse they came across as they walked through the shopping district of the Caelum City, east, getting closer to shantytown. That was definitely Floyd. Asher and Atlas would be the most difficult to discern, so she would need to keep an eye on them.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when Atlas fell into step behind her and murmured,

"Why did you two really drag us out tonight?"

Kessara scrambled for an answer. "What are you talking about?"

"You and Her Highness have been exchanging looks all night, and we're heading toward shantytown. What's going on, Commander Blackrose?"

Atlas, forever the gentlemen. But could she trust that it was him?

"How do I know that this is Atlas Sanlyn I'm talking to?" she muttered back.

Atlas's brows practically shot off his forehead. And then he leaned in closer, inky black hair sliding forward on his brow, and whispered,

"You've been feeling it too? The dread?"

Kessara recoiled. He felt it, he felt something was wrong. Which meant he must be real.

"Yes. And I know why."

Atlas was silent, scanning her face furiously with those dark eyes. No doubt waiting for her to elaborate. But Kessara couldn't risk it here, not with Asher walking just a few feet ahead of her.

Atlas noted her glance to Everette's back, and nodded.

And then she remembered; Atlas was a motukinetic. He could change people's motivations with a snap of his fingers and a little bit of concentration.

"I'd need to know what side he's on before I try," Atlas whispered as if reading her mind.

"Can you tell what someone's motivations are before you change them?" she asked.

Atlas closed his eyes, and she made sure he didn't trip on any of the cobblestones while he read Asher's motivations.

But when his eyes snapped open, they weren't pools of calm collectedness. No, those dark eyes were full of what could only be described as shock.

"He's working for the queen, but all he wants is...is..."

"What?" Kessara demanded.

" _Blood_."

Demon. He was a demon.

But they weren't in shantytown yet, and if she were to draw her powers now, every demon patrolling the city would be alerted. And every single one of them would know that she knew.

No, she needed to get them somewhere they wouldn't be noticed when she gutted it. The shantytown graveyard, where she met Warren for the first time, was the only place she knew of that hardly anyone frequented.

Kessara and Atlas casually shifted to the back of the group. She let her gold dagger drop into her hand, the hilt a familiar, comforting weight in her palm. Atlas unsheathed a long black dagger, unadorned and rather plain. But that dagger was famous, everyone in Orbis knew what that dagger was capable of. That dagger cut through entire social hierarchies, killing drug lords and assassins and terrorists and corrupt royalty.

There was no way Atlas would have every given that up without a fight. It was definitely the real Atlas standing next to her.

Kessara kept her eyes trained on the demon's back. Her sister stood just in front of it, perhaps unaware of the killing machine now exposed to her very breakable spine. If the thing wearing Asher's face even looked in Savannah's direction, she wouldn't hesitate to decapitate it, right in the middle of the city.

But suddenly, Atlas gripped her wrist.

"You can't kill him."

"Why not," she hissed, "It's a demon."

Atlas shook his head. "If he's gone, we will have to explain his death. It'll cause too much suspicion."

Right. Because if that thing was wearing Asher's face, the real Asher was probably already dead. And by killing the demon, they would be showing the queen they know. If that happened...

Kessara tried not to think about what would happen next, but the feeling of rope burning the skin around her neck, choking off her lungs, legs dangling uselessly in the air...

No, they couldn't kill him. Not yet, at least. But how would she and Savannah let Theodore and Floyd into their circle without the demon running back to the queen?

"Hey, Princess Savannah?" Theodore asked. "Where are we going."

 _Dammit._ They had just crossed the border into shantytown, and the graveyard they planned to take the Commanders to in order to try and sway them to their side. But now that they knew about Asher.

Savannah's laughing face instantly hardened to that new expression Kessara had seen grace her face so much recently. The expression of a leader.

"We need to talk without anyone listening."

No. no, no, no...

The demon perked up, cocking its head toward her sister. But Kessara was instantly at Savannah's side, knife drawn.

Floyd took a step backward, eyeing the gold blade in her hand.

"Kessara, what's going on?"

She said nothing, not knowing what she could and couldn't say in front of that thing that used to be Asher.

They were in a very, very bad situation. Now the demon knew that they were conspiring against the queen. There was nothing stopping it from running back to the queen and getting them all hanged. How would she get rid of the threat without alerting the queen to their treachery?

She silently thanked the Goddess that River and Alaric weren't here. If they all died tonight, they could carry on the mission.

Savannah pushed the heavy iron grate open, and glared at the other Commanders until they reluctantly walked in. Floyd and Theodore kept their hands on their weapons, eyeing Kessara like she was some kind of cornered animal who would strike at any moment. She couldn't tell them the real monster was standing right beside them.

Savannah shut the grate behind them. And when everyone was gathered around in a circle, she glanced behind her before she spoke.

"There are demons in the city."

Wow. Way to get right to the point. But Kessara was only half listening, her entire focus fixed on Asher. Atlas had moved to Asher's other side, shooting her a confirming look. She concentrated on the thread tying her to Etherea, widening it as much as she could without thunder cracking, without her eyes turning glowing blue. Without letting it know what she was doing. She didn't want to be caught scrambling for power like she was on the ship in the Dead Zone.

A low buzzing started in her ears as she fought for control against the tidal wave of energy that threatened to crash through her.

"Is that...that feeling?" Floyd asked quietly. "I keep feeling this sense of dread whenever I walk through the castle."

Theodore was frowning, deep lines appearing on his forehead. "I didn't know what it could be. But, it's the same feeling," he looked at Kessara, understanding passing between them.

The same feeling they got while sleeping in the war camps and trenches on the front lines. Like they would be attacked and killed at any second.

"They're capturing people," Savannah explained, "and replacing them with demon look-alikes, so no one will suspect anything is wrong until it's too late. Any one of the people you thought were friends could be foe. We don't know what happens to the real people they replace. More than likely, they're dead or dying. But there has been no evidence of anything. They just disappear."

"Fascinating," Asher said. "So you knew demons were in the castle, yet you never told the queen."

Every one of them turned to face him. It. Floyd's fingers tightened on the hilt of his sword, any trace of the smiling Commander gone from his face.

"No," Savannah said. "Because the queen is their leader."

If Floyd, Atlas and Theodore were surprised, they didn't show it.

"If the queen knows we know, we will all be hanged," Savannah went on, "and there would be no one protecting Cygnis."

"Is it not your job to serve the throne, no matter who sits upon it?" the demon asked.

There it was. _Your_ job. Not, _our_ job. It would run to the queen. It would kill them all. It had to die.

"No," Kessara snarled. "Our job is to serve Cygnis. To protect them from _you_."

She let go of her death grip on Etherea. Let the energy flood her veins, let her glowing eyes show the demon exactly who it managed to piss off.

Her voice sounded far away. "He's one of them. The real Asher Everette is gone, and this thing is his demon replacement."

Asher disintegrated. Or rather, his body morphed and changed and dissolved into another. A demon that looked just like the one she stabbed through the spine in Wild Country. Cherry red skin, black veins and void black eyes. Its mouth was filled with needle-sharp teeth, and disgustingly, it dropped down on all fours and started to crawl on limbs that bent backward toward her.

Savannah screamed.

Theodore shouted at her to get behind him, sword raised to match Floyd. Atlas had his matte black dagger out, angled to plunge it through the demon's spine-

"Wait!"

Kessara called down a beam of crackling blue energy, morphing it into a log whip. She snapped it hard, wrapping the end around the demon's throat, yanking it to the ground and out of Atlas's reach. It hissed and screamed, thrashing hard against Kessara's hold, but she refused to let go. If she had to go through the messiness of killing it, it had better damn well be worth it.

"Where are the others?" she demanded. "Where are you taking the people you replaced?"

The demon just shrieked and squirmed. Kessara tightened her grip, and the coil of energy around its neck squeezed harder.

"Under-" it choked out.

"Under what?" Floyd shouted.

The demon didn't respond. So Kessara clenched her fist even tighter, fingernails biting into her palms.

"Answer the question."

It clawed at its throat, but Kessara knew demons didn't need to breathe.

"Answer. The. Question."

It stopped struggling.

"Under the castle."

Under the- under the castle?

"The dungeons?" Theodore asked.

The demon whimpered.

"No. Beneath that. There's a hidden stairwell in the library. It leads down to where we're keeping them."

"Are they alive?"

It was Savannah, shielded by Floyd and Theodore, who asked. Demanded, actually.

The demon said nothing, so Kessara squeezed its neck until black blood began spurting. Not enough to kill, just enough to torture.

It screamed, but relented.

"Yes, they're alive."

Kessara breathed a heavy sigh of relief. But...why? Why keep them alive at all?

"What are you doing with them?"

It didn't say a word, only clawing at its neck, whimpering and crying like the pathetic roach it was.

Atlas met her eyes over its crumpled body.

"We're not going to get any more out of it. Just kill it and be done with it."

Kessara released her whip's hold on the demon's neck. But before it could even register, Atlas slammed his knife through its skull. It died silently, vile black blood spraying out, stinging her exposed legs as its body turned to black goo.

Kessara let the energy dissipate back up to Etherea.

For a moment, they were silent. But then, Savannah spoke.

"There's so much more to tell you, but we can't all leave the castle at once; it will be too suspicious. Atlas, Floyd, meet in the eastern part of the Caelum City tomorrow at eleven sharp. Leave at separate times as to not draw suspicion."

She was going to take them to Scarlette Snowrider's lair, to explain everything. Something like pride blomed in Kessara's chest. The Savannah she'd left behind as she went on her search for the _Shadow_ would have broken down after witnessing what she had. This Savannah, this was a true queen.

Her fellow Commanders paled at that, however. They knew exactly what, or who, resided in the eastern part of the city. They probably expected to have arrows spurting from their chests as soon as they set foot in the area, much like Kessara did.

"Theodore will come with Kessara after that, but meet at nine-thirty. Atlas, when we return to the castle, find Daemien, Allesia and Sloane, and tell them what happened."

She went on the explain their knocking pattern, how they would ask questions only the other would know, and speak in code.

"What about Asher? His demon clone is dead, how do we explain that?" Floyd asked.

"We tell the truth," Theodore replied grimly. "We all thought it would be fun to go out together, not realizing Asher was actually a demon in disguise. It tried to attack Savannah, and Atlas defended her by killing it."

Kessara nodded. "I believe the queen already suspects River and I to be suspicious. If Atlas was the one to kill it, it would look like I was a shocked about the revelation as the rest of you."

"Good," Savannah said. "We go the queen tonight. Any sort of delay will look suspicious, so you must look like you were just doing your jobs."

Kessara swallowed hard at the thought of standing before the queen, those milky-white eyes seemingly staring straight through her, that wicked smile curving her lips as she no doubt debated how many ways she could kill Kessara if she ever proved her a traitor.

She needed to stay strong.

_Don't show fear._

_Don't let them know we know._


	50. Chapter 50

Scarlette hadn't left his side since he and Alaric met up with her at the north side on the mountain. Warren was there, shooting him a strange look, before shifting into his wolf form and setting off north. Ever since River had met the werewolf, he'd always looked at him with a mixture of wariness and awe. He knew there was something about a psychic vision, but Kess had never elaborated on it.

Now, he was wondering exactly what that vision entailed.

But as for Scarlette...

"What?" he snapped, as he caught her watching him with those unnervingly dark eyes. So similar to Savannah's, yet so polarly different.

She just smiled.

"You look exactly like him."

River's fingernails bit into his palms as he gripped the reins tighter.

Falcon. Tristen.

He had been alive the entire time River was being torn apart in _her_ castle over and over and over again for years...

Scarlette's brow furrowed.

"He didn't know, River," she said, a tad gently. It just made him angrier.

"I am not talking about this with the likes of _you,_ " he spat. "He's not my brother."

He could have kissed Alaric for pulling up beside him at that moment on his white mare. The spy was no doubt listening to the conversation.

Scarlette's face morphed back into the picture of calm collectedness.

"What is it that we are searching for in Sirius?" Alaric asked him, jerking his chin to where Warren prowled ahead, his wolf form occasionally stopping to sniff the air.

Scarlette answered for him. "Warren and the wolves picked up a trail heading northeast. It may not be in Sirius at all, but he believes it is worth checking into."

Alaric sighed. "So, we don't have a set target. Great."

"Kess wanted us to look into the three realms and the Thinning while we were in Sirius," River pointed out, "So we have something."

Alaric nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon, where the Paria skyline was just starting to creep across the sky.

They rode in silence the last few hours to Sirius, Warren shifting every now and again to tell them the scent was growing stronger. And with ever passing hour, River's chest squeezed and squeezed tighter and tighter. What exactly were they tracking? As soon as they crossed the border into Sirius, River suddenly felt very, very, under-armed. Even though he was the most powerful sorcerer in Orbis and trained by Commander Blackrose herself. Even though anything that could come in the future couldn't be any worse than what he had already experienced in the past.

Sirius was exactly how Kess had described. Tall, ancient looking buildings painted in shades of red and gold lined twisted cobblestone streets. Lanterns and lights of varying colours were strung above the roads between buildings. People wandered in and out of mysterious-looking shops; very obviously tourists based on the women's frilly Cygnis-style dresses. The streets were chaotic, full of merchants and vendors setting up shady-looking stands all over, and Cygnian tourists crowding around them. People claimed to be able to read their fortunes, to sell enchanted crystals or magic potions that would make you taller or stronger or even make someone fall in love with you.

Warren shifted again, back to his human form, walking alongside their horses through the streets.

A vendor claiming psychic powers shouted at him as he walked by.

"Just a touch of your palm, good sir, and I can tell you your future!"

Warren ignored him. "I wish," he grumbled.

River snorted, but turned to Alaric.

'Do you know where this stationhouse is?"

Alaric veered sideways to avoid trampling a little old woman waving a crystal ball.

"Stationhouses are always in the eastern part of the city," he said, "it should be just up ahead."

"Hm," Scarlette mused, "A Cygnis stationhouse. What would they think if two of their Commanders walked in with _me_?"

What would they think if Alaric walked in with a former assassin and a mafia crime boss? _The_ mafia crime boss?

Alaric didn't flinch, however. "You are a consultant on a case and are not a threat."

Scarlette smirked in a way that made River re-think the "not a threat" part.

But before she could say anything, the shiny white marble of the Paria stationhouse came into view.

River, Alaric and Scarlette tied off their horses while Warren continued to sniff at the air, presumably trying to trace whatever scent they'd been chasing. He would remain out in the city, trying to figure out where the strange scent was coming from. But River and Alaric needed to go to the stationhouse to check on their...hidden army.

Kess had consulted with Kenna Woodhunter to figure out which Marshals they could trust, and sent flares out to all of them weeks ago. So far, all of them had responded. Well, except Zephyr.

River's chest tightened. Every passing day he was missing started to point to the fact his brother was already dead.

The Paria Marshal, Marshal Nescio, opened the door to the stationshouse, bowing deeply to Alaric, and shooting Scarlette and River a nervous look. Sirius was the most ancient civilization in Orbis, and Nescio looked old enough to have served the very first king. That is, he looked like he was on Death's door.

River was gentle in shaking the poor man's hand. He looked like he was going to have a heart attack at any minute.

As for all the Sergeants and Deputies...they all stood and stared. Stared at Scarlette, who seemed to be enjoying the attention. She blew a kiss to the closest Deputy, who scrambled backward.

But they also stared at him.

River fixed his attention firmly on Alaric's back.

"Is there somewhere we can talk in private?" his _viribus_ asked the aging Marshal.

But a Sergeant, a young man just about River's own age with short brown hair and a cool smile, came up instead.

"Yes sir," the Sergeant said, "right this way."

Alaric shot River a confused look, but followed after him into a small office at the back of the stationhouse.

"Back to work," the Sergeant barked to his gaping coworkers, before shutting the door behind them. Through the small window in the door, River could see that they instantly obeyed.

Scarlette took up a comfortable spot in the Sergeants chair, but he didn't seem to care, turning to Alaric and River.

"Commander Lockwood, Commander Pyroak," he didn't hesitate to shake River's hand, "Sergeant Ronan Crestbow, good to meet you. I assume you're here about the whole queen situation?"

River jerked his chin toward the window, where Marshal Nescio sat asleep in his desk chair.

"We came to talk to the Marshal," he said. "With all due respect, Sergeant, why are we in here with you?"

Crestbow didn't seem bothered by his words, shooting River another cool smile.

"Nescio is my great uncle. Refuses to retire," he chuckled. "Stubborn, that one. He has the title of Marshal, but I'm the one who's really running this stationhouse. I wrote back to Commander Blackrose." He dragged a hand through his hair. "I still can't believe I talked to _the_ Commander Blackrose."

River sketched a brow, but Alaric smirked at him.

Kess was more famous than he thought.

"I'll inherit the title when he passes I suppose," Crestbow went on. "But as for the queen situation, preparations are going well."

"How much do they know?" Alaric dropped his voice to a murmur, nodding to the other Sergeants and Deputies milling about the stationhouse.

"They know enough," Crestbow said grimly. "They know that the Cobalt castle has been compromised, and the Commanders are amassing a secret army in case the corruption dissolves into war. I haven't said anything about the queen; I don't want to spook them. I keep them on a training schedule. Commander Blackrose sent the training regimens the Guards and Officers use, and I've been rotating them through in groups of ten every day. We've been secretly importing weapons from Sirius and Breidia and storing them in the basements of residences all over the city."

Crestbow went on to explain the secret town meetings they held bi-weekly, as well as the number of new soldiers they'd been recruiting by the dozen. No conscription, he'd been adamant about that, all volunteers.

River suddenly felt very underqualified. He was a spy, an assassin. He worked alone, and the majority of his time was spent with Avalon in his head, playing him like a marionette. He didn't understand what it took to lead an army. It sounded like Crestbow was doing well for his stationhouse, but he didn't know, not really. But Kess did. Atlas Sanlyn and Theodore Dusktaker did. They were the soldiers in the team of Commanders. River and Alaric were both spies, here to judge to progress of an army of soldiers.

He looked to Alaric. He was nodding along with the report, seeming to understand well enough.

Scarlette seemed to be focused entirely on checking out Crestbow. He supposed the Sergeant was handsome. Tawny hair, deep brown eyes, an air of calm collectedness without any ice. He seemed like a nice enough guy, but this was absolutely _not_ the time.

River shot her a warning look, one that Scarlette raised a mocking brow at.

Fine. Point taken.

"Keep it up, Sergeant," Alaric said, snapping River back to the conversation. "We'll need as many good soldiers as we can get."

Crestbow nodded. "I'm assuming that desperation is why you let Scarlette Snowrider into my stationhouse unbound."

Scarlette smiled.

"Don't worry, Sergeant Ronan. I don't bite."

She said it in a way that told River she absolutely _would_ bite, and enjoy every second.

Crestbow didn't seem taken aback. He just looked her up and down, shrugged, and turned back to Alaric.

Scarlette looked murderous, but River shot her a smirk.

"If you need anything while you're here, just ask," he said, reaching out to shake River and Alaric's hands again.

River listened absently as Alaric asked where they could stay, and where the libraries were. Crestbow pointed them north to a stingy motel, which was conveniently right across from the biggest library in Sirius.

They thanked him again, and headed out of the stationhouse. The Marshal was still snoring in his office chair, and the other Sergeants and Deputies stared at River and Scarlette just as they did when they walked in. River pretended not to notice, but loosed a tight breath as soon as they made it out the doors to where their horses were tied up. There Warren sat, leaning against the fence, frowning at the street people as they walked by.

"What's wrong?" Scarlette demanded.

Warren shook his head.

"All these people are messing with the scent," he said, "it's so faint now, I can barely sense it."

"So, you can't track it?" River asked.

Warren shot him a look. "Of course, I can track it. But not during the day like this. I need less foot-traffic to really be able to pick up on it."

Alaric raked a hand through his hair. "So, we go tonight. Midnight, we meet outside the motel."

***************

Kessara scrubbed off the black acidic demon blood that had spattered up her legs. Every swipe of the cloth stung enough to make her eyes water, but she managed to clear it all off quickly enough. The sting was familiar; after spending a year on the front lines she'd become accustomed to demon blood spray that burned holes into her uniform and skin.

Savannah, shielded by Theodore and Floyd, had managed to avoid it, thank the Goddess.

Speaking of Savannah...

"You're insane," her friend said, flouncing into her bedroom carrying a bowl of water and strips of cloth, Teddy weaving between her legs. It was a wonder she hadn't tripped over him yet.

"How? I killed the demon. Threat eliminated," Kessara replied.

Savannah rolled her eyes. "You also killed Asher Everette. I thought the queen was going to turn us all into icicles after you told her."

Kessara winced. The demon had told them the people they replaced are being held under the castle dungeons. Which meant the real Asher Everette was hopefully still alive. How they were going to get down there to investigate without being caught and hanged, she had no idea.

"We can't talk about this here," she murmured as Savannah dunked a piece of cloth into the water and handed it to her. Too many listening ears. Tonight's events certainly reminded her of that.

Savannah nodded.

"I wonder how River and Alaric are doing."

Safe. Not here. That's all that mattered. As much as she hated the fact that Scarlette Snowrider was with them, she trusted Warren. And at least River and Alaric were together.

She wiped off the last of the demon blood with the damp cloth.

"Hopefully better than we are. Listen, River and Alaric are both gone. You need to sleep in my rooms tonight."

Savannah nodded.

"I'll get my stuff."

Kessara shook her head.

"The demons will be on high alert after tonight. It's safer if you just stay here. I'll take the couch, you can have my room."

Savannah pressed her lips together.

"This sucks."

"I know. But we'll make it out the other side, I promise."

Savannah said nothing, before getting up and wandering into Kessara's bedroom. The bedroom she hadn't used since she came back, months ago. She hoped Gwyneth had continued to change the sheets.

She quickly changed into her sleeping clothes and set up her pillow on her usual couch. Teddy, as usual, jumped up to lie directly on top of her. But as soon as her head hit the pillow, she was faced with the impossible task of going to sleep alone.

She knew her sister was in the other room. Knew that she wasn't _actually_ alone, but the empty couch across from hers still made her chest tighten.

He would be back in four more days. She would be fine until then.

Kessara forced herself to shut her eyes. To just, lie still until sleep came to claim her. But after the adrenaline rush of tonight's events, paired with the strange sleeping arrangements, her body refused to cooperate.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when a flare burst into existence right in front of her nose.

_Can't sleep either?_

_-River_

Kessara bit back a smile, and rushed to her desk for a parchment and a quill, waking Teddy who was far from pleased.

_No. It was an eventful day._

_-Kess_

She drew the sigil in the corner, and the parchment burst into flames.

A few moments later, another one appeared.

_Alaric thinks I'm "distracting him" with the flares. Keep sending them, I want to see him pissed._

Kessara snorted.

_You're incredibly annoying, you know that?_

She could almost see him laughing, Alaric rolling his eyes in the background.

_Oh yes, but you love me anyways._

Kessara's chest tightened again. She didn't know why.

_Good night, River._

_Night, Kess._

*********

Nobody told him how cold it was in Sirius. It was August in Cygnis, so River had only brought short sleeves and a summer cloak. He shivered for the seventh time in the past five minutes, pulling his cloak tighter around him.

He and Alaric had been waiting outside the library for almost an hour now. Scarlette and Warren had gone off to track whatever the strange scent was, leaving him and Alaric to reading-duty. The doors were locked, however, and the librarian that was supposedly "getting thing ready" had been in there the entire time.

Their search for the scent last night turned up minimal results. Warren had been able to get a general direction, but after three hours of searching, they'd all decided to go back and catch a few hours of sleep before facing the next day.

Alaric huffed hot air into his palms.

"This is ridiculous," River grumbled. "It doesn't take this long to put a few books away."

His _viribus_ looked grim.

"No, it doesn't."

He turned and knocked on the door. Hammered on it, actually.

Nothing.

River frowned.

"What's he doing in there?" Alaric asked, studying the door.

River had no idea. It did not take an hour to put away a few books. And the librarian wasn't answering the door.

But as the minutes ticked by, a pit started to grow in River's stomach. Something was wrong, he could feel it.

His _viribus_ , who no-doubt could feel everything he was, shot him a look.

They needed to get inside.

Alaric pounded on the door again, but again, no answer.

The pit in River's stomach grew.

"Something's wrong."

Alaric nodded his confirmation. But just as he was backing up to allow River to break the door down, something started to seep out of the bottom of the door. Something red, and thick, and _dear Goddess_ it was blood...

River tipped his head back and called out to the darkness surrounding him, within him. The shadows and the pain and the glimmers of shade beneath the canopies lining the streets, and launched it in a void-black spear of crackling energy toward the door. He felt an unusual resistance, like trying to push through a haze of tar; not impossible, but difficult. There must have been some kind of spellwork on the door to keep sorcerers out. But he was a sanctus, whatever that meant, so he continued to push against it, over and over and over again until it splintered, until it fell to pieces and the entrance was clear.

Alaric was the first to rush inside, matte black knife drawn. River, still reeling from his power, followed in after him.

The librarian was lying under a pile of broken wood, remnants of the door, a sword in his spine. His blood looked to have seeped from the wound, down the steps to where the door had been. River bent to check the man's temperature while Alaric surveyed the room.

Cold. He'd been dead for at least twelve hours, which meant whatever had greeted them at the door an hour ago was definitely a demon.

Alaric's soft curse brought him back to attention.

The library was ransacked. Pieces of parchment were strewn across the floor, blood spattered up the walls. Stacks of books had been tossed into the hearths lining the walls, others had been shredded. Huge shelves that seemed to touch the ceiling now leaned against each other, wood groaning under the excess weight.

Someone or something had tried to destroy all the books in the library.

Alaric jerked his chin toward the south side of the library. River would check the south, Alaric would check the north, and if it was all clear they would meet back here.

He set out, heart hammering in his ears, calling the darkness back toward him and forming it into two void-black knives. He checked each shelf, yanked the darkness out of every nook and cranny just to be sure he didn't miss any demons hiding in the shadows.

Nothing.

He heard Alaric's soft "Clear," and echoed it.

The library was empty.

Alaric strode toward him, jamming his knife into a hidden holster at his hip.

"It looks like whatever was in here tried to get rid of all the books in the library," he said. "Why, I don't know."

River frowned at the chaos.

Not all of the books had been destroyed. A lot, yes but...

He waved a hand and suffocated the nearest hearth. He pulled out a book, brushed off the ash and charcoal, and squinted at the title.

_Legends of Sirius._

The other books that lay in the hearth had similar titles. All of them were history books.

"They were looking for something."

"Or they were trying to stop us from looking for it," Alaric countered.

They spent a few minutes digging out the books that were salvageable. Again, all history and legend books. River frowned.

"What didn't they want us to find?"

Alaric was already heading for the door.

"We need to tell Sergeant Crestbow about this. Get some kind of cleanup and take care of the body."

River followed him.

"Shouldn't we be doing some kind of investigation? This is a shit-show."

Alaric shot him a look. "I think its fairly obvious what happened here. Demons are trying to hide something."

"Shouldn't we figure out what?"

Alaric jerked his chin toward the stack of books in his arms. "Something in our history. Let's just get the books and go back to the hotel. Crestbow's men can clean this up."

"Fine. Go ahead." River dumped his books into his _viribus's_ arms. "I'm going to stay here and figure out what they were trying to keep us from."

Alaric blinked. Once, twice. But as River waited for him to leave, arms crossed, he put the stack of books down on the nearest table, and pulled a quill out of his inner pocket.

"I'll send a flare to Crestbow. Then I'll help you look."

River smirked. "Good. I'll start in the southern quadrant."

Alaric rolled his eyes, but River had already sauntered over to the southern-most wall.

The library would have been beautiful. Dark wood-paneled walls lined with shelves of books and worn tapestries. The ceiling, much like the library in the Sana Collegium, was made of stained glass that splintered the cool sunlight into a thousand colours. As River drew closer, he could see that each of the wood panels had been intricately carved in a series of loops and swirls and lines and dots. His fingers dipped and rose over the carvings as he ran his hands over the wall, searching for anything out of place.

A few meters above his head hung iron torches, their flames a soft orange and still flickering, despite the destruction that surrounded them. They must be fueled by some kind of pyrokinetic power, like Scarlette's, in order to survive an ordeal like that.

He ducked under a fallen bookshelf that leaned precariously across the pathway against the wall. The shelves had been snaped clean in half, the books tumbling off into his path. He stepped around them, one hand on the carved wooden wall, the other brushing past the hanging shards of shelving.

Nothing seemed out of place, but something deep in his gut told him he was close. To what, he didn't know. But he kept going, scanning the walls and floor.

"Are you seeing these carvings in the walls?" he heard Alaric's muffled voice across the library.

"Yeah," he said back, glancing at the wood beneath his hand. "What, did you find something?"

A pause. "No, just...a feeling."

River turned his attention back to the swirled lines on the walls. Zeroed in his focus to each mark. Each line and swirl were separated by a dot; some were clustered together, others spread farther apart.

They kind of looked like...

"Do they look like letters to you?"

River huffed a laugh. "Yeah, yeah they do."

But in what language? He'd never seen anything like this before.

"It's not Sirian, that's for sure. It looks ancient though; we stopped using dots as spaces centuries ago, it took up too much time. It's got to be at least from the time Cygnis was created."

River frowned. This, something to do with these markings was important.

"What if, what if whatever the demons were trying to find and destroy wasn't in the books? What if they were looking for something _in_ the library, but it actually _is_ the library?"

He felt Alaric's footsteps come up behind him, and he whirled to see him bent over a table, scratching another message into a piece of parchment with his quill.

"I'm going to get a team out here to copy down all these markings," he explained as the flare burst into flames. "In the meantime, we should see what else we can find."

River turned back to the wall. "Do you think there's any secret passages in here?" He pressed down on a knot in the wood, hoping it was a button to open a secret door.

Alaric laughed. "Wouldn't you like that?"

"It would make things more interesting."

"A body, a demon war and a ransacked library with ancient markings on the walls aren't interesting enough for you?"

River ran his fingers over a part in the wall where the wood was warped, probably by some kind of water damage. Nothing yet.

"Fair point. Look, nothing else seems out of place. You should stay here and monitor the team taking down the inscriptions, I'll go find Scarlette and Warren and see if they've found anything."

Alaric nodded. "I'll send a flare when its done."

The walk back to the motel room across the street felt far longer than it should have. The events that had just transpired in the last hour kept swirling round his head.

What was the language on the walls, and what did it say? And why did Avalon and the demons want it destroyed?

River was glad Kess wasn't here. She would have been clawing all the skin off her neck that night if she'd seen the carnage in the library. He hoped she was sleeping soundly back at the castle.

He wiggled the key in his motel room door, and managed to pry it open. He didn't spend much time there, quickly strapping on more weapons and scrubbing the dried blood off his hands before heading out to hunt down Scarlette.

But as he exited the motel, Scarlette was already there, tapping her foot on the sidewalk.

"Finally," she murmured, and grabbed his arm, half dragging him down the sidewalk. But as surprised as he was to find her so quickly, or rather, she found him, he was more focused on the state of her.

Her forearms were covered in a golden liquid, her midnight dyed-black hair tied in a messy half-style. Her clothes were torn, armor hanging crooked on her shoulders.

"What the hell happened to you? What's on your arms?"

Scarlette rolled her eyes. This Scarlette was so strange in comparison to the woman he'd spent the past month carefully meeting with every week. That Scarlette rarely showed evidence that she felt any emotion at all. This one was all impatience and annoyance and weirdly obvious tells.

"We found what Warren had been scenting."

River blinked. But she didn't seem inclined to share it, just dragging him down the road with such ferocity that he had to jog to keep up.

They continued at the ridiculous pace for a while, turning down more and more isolated streets in the city until they made it to a house on the outskirts of the main plaza. The house wasn't pretty; just a single floor with peeling salmon-pink paint and an overgrown garden, but Scarlette pulled him around the back, and down some steps to what was no-doubt the basement.

River began to gather the darkness into a void-black spear behind his back. He didn't fully trust the mafia queen, and there was no way he was going to be caught weaponless and off-guard if this was a trap.

Scarlette kicked the door open, and shoved him inside.

The basement was larger than expected, but just as dark. Welded into the window frames were iron bars, the soft glow from the single torch in the center of the room glinting off the smooth metal and illuminating the two other people in the room.

One of them was Warren, looking just as disheveled as his master, who knelt next the other, dabbing at their chest and shoulders with a damp cloth.

The first thing he noticed were the wings. Huge, fluffy white feathered draped across the floor behind them, like they were too exhausted to hold them up. They were covered in the same thick golden liquid that covered Scarlette's, and now Warren's, arms.

They sat slumped in a chair, hands folded in their lap, mumbling something; like some kind of prayer.

"What is this," River demanded. But the person lifted their head, and the torchlight snagged on the features of their face.

River stopped breathing.

It looked like Kess. The same chocolate waves, the same pine-green eyes, the same everything. The clothes were different, however. She wore a flowing white robe that swept to the floor, or would have if she had been standing. It hung loosely off her shoulders, exposing much of her collar and upper chest, enough so that River was inclined to look away if not for the fact that she was covered in gaping cuts. Cuts that bled gold.

"Ichor," Scarlette explained, as if reading his thoughts.

River's hands shook so hard he clenched them into fists.

It wasn't her. His Kess seemed to look straight into his soul with those eyes. His Kess sat with her shoulders square, chin high, staring down everyone who passed her. Every fibre of his Kess's being screamed power and strength and fierce determination. This, this was not her. This Kess looked at him with the same eyes, but didn't seem to see him. This Kess slumped into her chair, curling into herself, hands clasped in a kind of prayer.

"Why does it look like her?" he whispered.

He could feel Scarlette's gaze on him, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the being who sat before him, wearing her face.

"It looks like Tristen to me," Scarlette said quietly.

"It looks like my mother," Warren echoed. "I think, I think it takes the face of the person you love the most."

River's stomach twisted so hard he thought he was going to throw up. "What is it."

"An angel."

River leaned on the nearest wall for support.

An angel. They'd found an angel.

He took a few deep, calming breaths. If Kess was here, his Kess, she would have told him off for clenching his jaw so hard.

He forced himself to relax; he could deal with the "person you love the most" thing later. Or never.

"What happened to it?"

Scarlette walked over to the angel and examined the cuts.

"Warren and I tracked their scent through the city to this house. The people here, they were demons, and they got to the angel first. They were trying to torture them for information on the Thinning. We managed to kill them and save the angel, but they're too injured to move right now."

"Did they break?"

Warren shook his head, but the angel, for the first time, spoke up.

A shiver snaked its way down his spine as the angel used Kess's voice, Kess's mouth, to speak.

"No, I did not."

It was Kess's voice, but beneath it, like a divine undertone, was a low whistling sound. The angel's real voice, he presumed.

By Warren and Scarlette's reactions, this was the first time they were hearing them speak too.

"They almost did," Warren murmered.

"Do you have a name?" Scarlette asked.

The angel frowned. "You cannot pronounce it with your mortal tongues. I go by Salathiel here."

River still thought "Salathiel" was a bit of a mouthful, but he deigned to keep quiet.

"How long have you been here?"

Salathiel looked toward the barred-windows with something like longing on their face.

"I've been stuck in Orbis since the last Thinning, seventy-seven years ago."

River's stomach dropped to the floor.

Seventy-seven years ago was the last Thinning. Seventy-seven years, that meant the next Thinning would happen this year. In the next four months.

He needed to know when. He needed to know to the day.

River walked on shaky legs toward the angel. Knelt down beside them, and tried not to think about how uncanny the resemblance was to Kess as they turned those eyes, her eyes, on him.

"Salathiel, when exactly did you fall through the doorway? Do you know what day?"

Salathiel's eyes were wary. "The others asked me the same question. Do you think I do not know what the information I hold can do?"

River pressed his lips together and glanced at Scarlette, who stood in a corner with her ichor-covered arms crossed over her chest.

"Listen. The others who had you were demons. They work for Empress Avalon, the Dark Queen, and they're trying to raise Diabolis based on a deal the Dark Queen made with him years ago. We," he gestured to himself and his companions, "We're trying to stop them. But we need to know when the Thinning will happen so we can get ahead of them. So please, if you know when it is, tell us so we can stop them."

Salathiel was quiet for a moment.

"The first of December."

The first of December. Three months. They had three months to kill Avalon and Queen Saphira.

He locked eyes with Warren.

"Send a flare to Alaric with these coordinates. Do it _now_."


End file.
